


Allegiance

by SweetSunnyRose



Series: Allegiance [1]
Category: Chronicles of Narnia (Movies), Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types, Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Betrayal, Eventual Romance, F/M, Loyalty, Telmarine Age of Narnia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-02-23 09:23:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 39,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23709271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetSunnyRose/pseuds/SweetSunnyRose
Summary: Allegiance: the loyalty of a citizen to his or her government or of a subject to his or her sovereign; loyalty or devotion to some person, group, cause, or the like.All her life, Reagan has known three things without wavering doubt. 1) The gods were something to be to revered and feared, 2) the Telmarines were a peaceful and thriving nation and 3) she was going to marry Caspian X and become Queen of Narnia.Those beliefs are thrown into turmoil the moment Caspian is kidnapped by a rogue band of Narnians that, by all accounts, should have been extinct. When a truth darker than any she could imagine begins to reveal itself, Reagan begins to question her allegiance. Will she stand with the nation that raised her, taught her, the nation that she was destined to rule? Or will she stand with a group of strangers accused of treason and the man she was meant to marry?A Narnian tale of loyalty and justice...
Relationships: Caspian (Narnia) & Original Female Character(s), Edmund Pevensie/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Allegiance [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1707559
Comments: 6
Kudos: 28





	1. Kidnapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reagan learns of Prince Caspian's kidnapping and sets out to find the culprits.

**Chapter 1**

**Kidnapped**

I crumbled up the letter and tossed it in the fire. This was madness. Insanity. How could they have let this happen? Prince Caspian was kidnapped. By _Narnians_? The sheer impossibility of that statement was unfathomable. Narnians were extinct.

Three hundred years ago Telmar was destroyed by famine. That’s when our ancestors came to Narnia in refuge; its previous inhabitants were witless, senseless, and easily defeated. Under the great King Caspian I, we Telmarines quickly established order and community, and our great nation now thrives in prosperity and peace. So to be told that our royal Prince Caspian X has been kidnapped by a rogue band of extinct witless and senseless _Narnians_ is not something I will accept. Like the great Queen Reanna (may she find rest in the life beyond) used to say, _“If a woman wants something done properly, she must see to it herself.”_

I quickly slipped into my riding boots and riding attire and slunk down to the kitchens. It was dark and quiet in the halls. The whole house was asleep at this hour, even Cook was passed out in her wooden chair with an empty bottle of ale at her feet. The freshly baked bread, however, was cooling in the windowsill. I grabbed two loaves and stuffed them in my riding satchel, along with some mashed berries and a flagon of water.

In the stables I readied Brenah; she had been a gift from my father three years ago and my greatest companion apart from Prince Caspian. That was right before my father sent me to live with his brother’s family at Highcliff, named for the surrounding—you guessed it—high cliffs, located at the foot of the mountains while he remained in Beaver’s Dam. I strapped on my sword and tied my hair into a simple braid—as Narnia’s future queen, I couldn’t chop it off like I would have preferred. I said a quick prayer to Venti for speed enough to catch Caspian’s captors, and then I was off, riding like the wind and leaving Highcliff before the sun made its peak over the horizon.

And to be honest, that’s where my great plan of escape and rescue ended. I knew what I wanted to do—find Prince Caspian, return him to the castle safely, and prove to my father that I belonged at Court and not at Highcliff—but I had no idea where to begin my search. If Caspian had been kidnapped, more likely by usurping Telmarines than the _extinct_ Narnians—do I really need to keep repeating myself here—then I had no idea where they would take him.

Narnia was vast, much of it covered by thick impenetrable woods. If I went to the castle first, I would waste precious time in finding Caspian and Father would put me under lock-and-key before returning me to Highcliff. And I couldn’t return to Highcliff. They would surely be aware of my departure by now; at least, Cook would be aware of her missing bread. Maybe if I could figure out where the kidnappers were taking Caspian, I could cut them off or at the very least meet up with them and take them by surprise. I had to stop and think this through, and Brenah could use a bit of water. I found a small brook and allowed Brenah to drink and graze while I had a few bites of bread.

“Now, let’s see.” There was no one around to hear me or respond to me, but I didn’t care.

“Which way would they have gone after leaving the castle? The north is impassible by marshes to the east and it’s too open to the west. They would have been spotted too easily and Caspian would have been returned to the castle before Father had a chance to send me a raven.”

I tore off a chunk of bread and smeared it in the mashed berries.

“There’s the east, but the sea is east and only a fool would go there. There’s the west where they would be lost forever in the maze of ridges and if they did manage to make it through then what? A destitute land?”

I took a sip of water and wiped the excess off my chin with the back of my hand.

“That leaves south, through the forest, to Archenland, the great desert beyond that, and the lands of Calormen beyond that where there would be very little hope of ever finding him again. I have to stop them before they make it that far.”

I rose to my feet and brushed crumbs off my shirt.

“All right, Reagan, the fate of your betrothed and all of Narnia lie on your shoulders.” I grinned and gathered my things. “If mother could only see me now.”

Perhaps it was best that mother couldn’t see me now, because that also meant she couldn’t see the blow that took me out. Neither did I for that matter.

I couldn’t begin to tell you how long I was out, but when I came to I was in a completely different area. The ground beneath me was hard, flat, and had an earthy feel to it unlike the forest bed I was in before. My hands were bound, there was some kind of blind over my eyes, and my head... Ugh! My head was ringing worse than when I took a fall off of Brenah last year and was laid up in bed for a week. Father had come to see me then, and I thought he was going to take me back home with him but alas.

I pushed myself up into a seated position and felt the unfriendly pins in my arm. I twisted my wrists slightly to test the bonds. It was a simple rope tie, easy enough to get out of. It would be easier still if I had my dagger with me, but my captors weren’t stupid enough to leave me armed. Still, a bit of twisting would cause friction and enough friction could loosen the bonds. Sure, it would be a bit uncomfortable, probably leave some nasty burns on my wrists, but it was a heck of a lot better than being held hostage like some defenseless maiden.

I was anything but a defenseless maiden; my father had seen to that personally. I could say that my father always wanted a son but got me instead so he treated me like a son, but that’s simply not the case. My father thought I should know how to fight and defend myself. So, he taught me everything: riding, hunting, dueling, and escaping from unknown captors in an unknown facility for example.

Someone was coming. I could hear the footsteps. I stopped my attempts to escape; my wrists could use a little break anyway. I flinched slightly when I sensed a hand near my face, but then they pulled the blindfold off. I kept my eyes shut and looked down to let my vision adjust slowly to the sudden change. Then I looked around.

I was in the far corner of the room away from the door. Although, “room” was a little generous. My surroundings were completely barren and earthen walls, like some sort of cave. The door wasn’t a door at all, merely a hole in the wall. And sitting against the wall across from me was none other than Prince Caspian.

“Fancy meeting you here,” I said casually; he smiled. “Do you know where ‘here’ is?”

“They call it the How. It’s a series of underground mazes,” he replied.

“Ugh! I hate mazes. I was never any good at them.”

“You never had the patience for them.”

“I can’t argue that.” I began twisting my wrists again to loosen the bonds some more. “So, do you know its defenses? How many exits are there?”

“There’s the main entrance, but it’s open and heavily populated. Then there’s a hidden back entrance.”

“Hidden entrance; I like it. That’s our way out. What about Brenah and Destrier? It would be a lot easier if we could escape on them. Do you know where they are?”

“Brenah is safe; she’s being looked after.”

“Good. Good. I would hate for anything to happen to her because of your folly.”

“My folly? You were the one riding her.”

“Yeah, and why do you think that is? Because you went and got yourself kidnapped! How does that happen?”

“I don’t know. How did it happen for you?”

I stared back at him and let my wrists rest again.

“Did they sneak up behind you while you were talking to yourself again?” he asked.

“I was strategizing. I was coming to find you because someone had to come save your sorry arse.”

“I don’t think Lord Morvyn would approve of your foul language, Lady Reagan.”

I rolled my eyes. “He’s my father, Caspian. You can call him that, you know.”

Caspian laughed, one of the many things I had missed while being confined at Highcliff. “I have missed you, Reagan. Life at Court hasn’t been the same without you.”

“Ugh. Please, spare me the whiny complaints of how miserable your life has been at Court. You don’t know miserable until you’ve spent a month in solitude at Highcliff. There’s no one there except a couple of house hands, an aunt and uncle who treat me like a child, their flighty daughters, and their nine-year-old son who followed me around everywhere. It was so annoying, and I had to put up with it for three years. _Three years,_ Caspian!”

“No, no you’re right. Living a quiet, simple life where no one needs something from you every second of every day, where you don’t have to spend endless hours in treaty meetings or dealing with matters of state, where you’re free to do what you want when you want…yeah, that sounds completely miserable.”

“Is that why you let yourself get kidnapped?” I teased. “You needed a break from the life of a Royal Pain in the Arse?” I thought my words would have elicited another laugh from him. Instead, his shoulders seemed to sag.

“About the kidnapping, Reagan; there’s something you need to know. I know it’s going to sound crazy, you’ll think me mad, but you have to listen to me. You have to trust me.”

“Of course I trust you, Caspian. What silly sort of request is that?”

“I… I wasn’t kidnapped,” he said. “I ran away.”

“You…what? You ran away? Look, Caspian, I know you don’t care much for life at Court, but that’s no reason to do something so stupid. If you were that miserable, you could have ordered my father to bring me back.”

“I didn’t run away because I was miserable. I fled for my life. My aunt gave birth to a son, and my uncle had his men try to kill me.”

“Pruney had her baby? That poor baby; speaking of miserable…”

“Reagan, did you hear what I just said? My uncle tried to kill me.”

“I’m sure that’s not what happened, Caspian.”

“I was there! I saw it. The General and his men fired crossbows at my bed. If Professor Cornelius didn’t get me out of there when he did, I’d be dead, Reagan.”

“I…I’m sure you probably just misunderstood…”

“Misunderstood? How does one misunderstand the firing of crossbows at one’s bed where one is believed to be sleeping?”

“They probably heard rumors of attempted kidnapping and they were there to stop it, to thwart the would-be-kidnappers.”

“There were no kidnappers, Reagan!” He said angrily. He ran his hands over his face and through his hair. “I thought I could talk to you. I told them I could make you understand, but there’s no chance of that is there?”

_Wait. Through his hair?_ “Where are your bonds, Caspian?”

He looked at me. “I don’t have any bonds. I never had them because I wasn’t kidnapped. And you can stop pretending to mess around with yours; I know you broke free of them ten minutes ago.”

“It was more like fifteen, actually.” I let the ropes fall away and I inspected my wrists. They were a little red and a little sore, but a few simple oils would fix them up in no time. I leaned back against the wall. “What’s going on here, Caspian? What’s this all about?”

“It’s… it’s all a bit remarkable, really. Do you recall the old histories of Caspian I, of the first war and how we delivered this land?”

“Everyone knows that story, Caspian. What about it?”

“Well, forget it.”

“Which part?”

“All of it. In fact, forget everything you think you know. We didn’t free this land, or redeem it, or deliver it. We invaded it. We slaughtered nearly all the Narnians. He wasn’t called Caspian the Conqueror for nothing, Reagan.”

“What do you mean ‘nearly all’? The Narnians are extinct.”

“That’s what I thought too. That’s what they wanted us to think. But then I found them, or well, they found me I guess. Point is, the Narnians are very much alive: Talking Beasts of any kind imaginable, Dwarfs, Centaurs, Minotaurs! They’re real and they’re ready to fight, Reagan.”

He was mad. Clearly. There could be no other explanation. He certainly looked mad: wide eyes, flushed cheeks.

“You don’t believe me.” His eyes drooped in disappointment.

“No, I don’t believe you. How could I? This is insane, Caspian, almost as insane as the possibility of you being kidnapped.”

“I…I can prove it. I can show them to you. Will you come with me?”

He was delusional and it broke my heart to see him like this. But at the moment I didn’t know if it was worse to play into his delusion or to fight him on it. Fighting him on it didn’t seem to be getting me anywhere though, so I nodded my head. That crazed look was back as he jumped to his feet.

I rose to mine and beat the dust off my clothes. “Ugh. This place is filthy.”

“It’s an underground cavern; what did you expect?”

I followed him wordlessly out of the room; of course he wouldn’t care about a bit of dirt. We took a few turns before we came to another small cavern. It appeared to be roughly the same size and shape of the one we left, but inside there were several small people—children rather—wearing black and white fur coats. They didn’t notice our arrival.

“Trufflehunter, I would like for you…”

“Ahh!” I screeched and jumped back as the child turned to face us. It wasn’t a child at all, but a badger! A very _large_ badger who stood on only two feet!

“…to meet Lady Reagan. She’s a friend of mine,” Caspian finished.

“Ah, Lady Reagan, it is a pleasure to meet you. I am sorry for the way things were handled in the forest when they found you. I hope they weren’t too rough and unfriendly,” the badger said.

The badger said? What madness! Badgers don’t speak!

“Would you like some water?” he asked when I said nothing.

“Reagan,” Caspian nudged my arm. “Trufflehunter asked if you’d like some water.”

I turned to Caspian. “No, I don’t want its water. And I don’t think you should have any more of it either. It’s clear to see what’s going on here. They’re poisoning your mind, Caspian. This is all some sort of feverish delusion.”

“Well that’s rather rude,” the badger said.

“I’m sorry, Trufflehunter. She’s having a harder time adjusting. Maybe later?” Caspian offered.

He grabbed my arm and led me away. I didn’t pay attention to where we were going; I was too busy trying to figure out how to get Caspian out of this mess. He was obviously in far deeper than I realized. We passed a few other creatures along the way: a squirrel (at least I think it was a squirrel), a man with goat-like legs, and something else I couldn’t even begin to describe. At last, we reached a larger cavern where Brenah was tethered.

“Look, Reagan, I… I was hoping I could just talk to you, explain all of this, and that you would just accept it. But that’s not going to happen. You have to discover the truth for yourself. So, out of respect for our friendship… take Brenah and return to the castle. Find the truth for yourself. My tutor, Dr. Cornelius can help you; he can show you the ancient texts. But, Reagan, please be careful. Don’t trust my uncle; he wants the throne for himself and he’ll stop at nothing to get it, even if it means killing me.”

I was still in a daze. This couldn’t be happening. Caspian saddled Brenah for me and then threw me on top.

“Someone’s coming. Quickly now,” Caspian urged. “Head north. When you come to the river you can follow it west back to the castle.”

I grabbed his hand before he could swat Brenah’s behind. “I’ll find a way to save you, Caspian. I promise. I’ll find a way to free you.”

Then I was off once again, down a long dark tunnel and out into the open air where I could find clarity once more.


	2. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reagan returns home and begins an investigation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's hard to judge a story based on a single chapter, so I'm posting chapter 2 early. Hope you enjoy. Comments and feedback are always welcomed and appreciated. :)

**Chapter 2**

**Home**

“Reagan!”

My father came bursting through my door and swept me into a hug. I made it home a little over an hour ago while my father was attending Court. I had Jessalynn, one of the maids in my father’s house, draw me a bath so I could scrub myself clean. I didn’t want any trace of whatever poison the kidnappers used on Caspian to begin affecting me as well. I also had her burn my clothes for good measure.

Still, after all of that, something didn’t feel right. The conviction in Caspian’s eyes had been too strong to be the result of poison. The mask of the child—or whatever it was—was too real to be a mask. But that couldn’t be possible. Narnians were extinct.

I returned my father’s crushing hug and buried my face in his chest. In his arms, I knew I was always safe and the scary things that made no sense became less scary. The letter from my father, my time in the cave, that thing I saw…they had all been a part of some wild dream. I was home now. I was where I belonged. I could walk to the castle and find Caspian amidst his studies. Everything was fine.

“Thank the gods you are all right,” my father said, kissing the top of my head. “I was so worried when Marta sent a raven that you were missing. After what happened to Prince Caspian, I…” My father didn’t put into words what he thought might have happened; he only held me tighter.

“What… What happened to Caspian?” I asked, stepping out of his embrace. _Don’t say it. Please, don’t say it._

“Didn’t you get my raven?”

“What raven?” Maybe if I denied it enough it would eventually become true.

My father looked sympathetic. “Come; have a seat.” It was when he sat beside me and pat my hand that I knew this wouldn’t turn out the way I’d hoped.

“Kidnapped! By who?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

It made no more sense the second time I heard it.

“But Narnians are extinct,” I argued.

“That is what we were led to believe,” my father said. “But General Glozelle and his men gave chase. They followed them into the Shuddering Wood. The ones holding Caspian eluded them, but they did manage to catch one Narnian. That is how we knew it was them.”

“Where is it? I wish to see it for myself. I wish to question it.”

“Reagan, you cannot.”

“I can!” I demanded, rising to my feet. “As Caspian’s betrothed I have a right to question his captor.”

“The Dwarf isn’t here, Reagan.”

“It escaped?”

“No. It has already been executed.”

_Executed?_ “Did you at least question it? You could have in my stead.”

“Lord Miraz did, but it said nothing. I don’t think it could speak.”

The vision of a long black-and-white snout asking me if I would like some water came to mind. That thing—that badger at least, could talk rather plainly. Why couldn’t a Dwarf?

The room began to spin around me and I lost my balance. My father jumped to his feet to catch me before I could fall.

“Jessalynn! Fetch her some water, please. This news has caused her great shock. Come, Reagan, to bed with you until this shock has worn off.”

I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t fight it; the moment my head hit the pillow, I was out.

_“You have to see the truth for yourself…”_

_“Find Dr. Cornelius; he can explain…”_

_“I’ll find a way to save you, Caspian; I promise.”_

Caspian’s rooms didn’t provide any answers. I thought they might, but they were clean; almost too clean. The curtains were thrown open letting in the afternoon sun. The bed was made perfectly. Even the items on his vanity and in his wardrobe were pristinely aligned. I expected chaos. I expected disorder, especially since it was Caspian’s room.

Caspian was never meticulous when it came to putting his things away where they belonged. He often tossed his armor off and allowed it to fall where it may. I remember one time, Caspian had gone to hang up an arm brace after training and it missed the hook. He left it lying on the floor. I let it lay there for ten whole minutes before my eye began to twitch uncontrollably and I picked it up. Caspian had laughed mercilessly at me.

I suppose it’s possible he was only like that with me because he knew how much disorder bothered me. Maybe he normally kept his room perfectly ordered. I had only been by his room once before, four years ago, and I only caught a quick glimpse of it then while he ducked inside to pick something up or drop something off—I can’t remember which—and I can’t remember what state it was in then.

Even so, if Caspian did keep his room neat I’d think his kidnapping would have left signs of a struggle. Father said the General caught a Dwarf. The Narnians I saw were all the size of children. How else could they have gotten Caspian out of the castle if not with a struggle? For that matter, how did they even get into the castle in the first place?

 _“How does one misunderstand the firing of crossbows at one’s bed?”_

If a crossbow or any other weapon had been fired at Caspian’s bed, then the curtains surrounding his bed would have sustained heavy damage. I ran my hand over the nearest curtain. There was no damage at all. In fact, they seemed almost new.

_“Find Dr. Cornelius…”_

“Alright already. I’m going,” I said to no one. The Caspian in my head smirked.

_“Talking to yourself again?”_

“Oh, shut up.” Geeze. I needed to get a grip on this thing.

As clean and orderly as Caspian’s room had been, the Professor’s was just the opposite. There were scrolls of parchment and torn book bindings tossed haphazardly around the room. The bed-sheets had been sliced with patches of straw were sticking up through them. And models had been ripped from the walls and ceilings. There was disorder and chaos aplenty; it made my stomach churn.

I almost couldn’t bring myself to enter a room in such disarray. I had to bite my lip and dig my nails into the palms of my hands to keep from cleaning as I entered. Even then, I couldn’t refrain from doing a little when I reached the large desk in the middle of the room. I stacked the papers into four even stacks and arranged the quills into four piles.

_“Focus, Reagan.”_

I stopped what I was doing. What was I doing? Oh! Right! I’d come to find the Professor to… I don’t know. To ask him what he thought had happened to Caspian? To ask who was really behind the Prince’s kidnapping or his “running away”? To ask him to explain what in Tash’s hell was going on?

It was clear, however, that the Professor wasn’t here and, by the looks of it, hadn’t been in a while.

“Now what, Caspian?”

There was silence.

“Oh, sure, now you shut up.”

I turned to leave when I kicked my toe on a very large and very hard book. After bending down to rub the pain from my toe, I picked up said book and laid it on top of the desk gingerly; I didn’t want to mess up what little bit of order there was.

_A Complete Narnian History_ was etched across the cover in gold lettering. I turned to the first page. Words! There were so many words it made my head spin. I ignored them as best I could and instead focused on the only picture present. It was of a King and a Queen standing next to a dis-proportionate lion. Really! Lion’s weren’t _that_ big, were they? Beneath the picture the caption read:

**Aslan with Frank and Helen, the first King and Queen of Narnia**

I turned a few more pages; there were more words, lots of them.

_“It’s a book, Reagan.”_

“Shut up, would you. And get out of my head. Oh, look! Another picture.”

This one was a map of Archenland. Its caption stated that Archenland was founded by a descendant of Frank and Helen. I picked up a large chunk of pages and turned them at once. I landed on another picture.

This drawing depicted an impressively tall woman (don’t ask me how I knew she was tall when there was nothing beside her for comparison, I just…knew). She was dressed in all-white fur with what appeared to be a crown of ice on her head, and she held a long staff in her hand. I couldn’t decide if I thought she was beautiful or fearsome. Then I briefly wondered why the answer had to be either-or.

There was something not quite right about her though and the longer I stared at her picture, the more unnerved I became. Gooseflesh rose on my arms and on the back of my neck. I turned the pages again hastily.

I landed on yet another picture—I know you’re probably beginning to wonder if this was, in fact, a picture book but I assure you it wasn’t. For every picture there are loads more words. And it’s not that I can’t read or that I don’t like to read, I just often find that pictures can tell you just as much, or sometimes even more than words can. Take the next one for example.

It showcased four people riding on horseback through a wood with a stag in front of them. They’re obviously on a hunt and they are all some level of nobility. I’d say they’re two kings with their queen wives based on how fine their clothing appears. Or perhaps one king and his queen with their son and daughter, though the ages don’t appear to be right for that.

What was really interesting about the picture though, is the strange hole that pierced one of the queen’s horses. I ran my finger over the hole gently. It was made by the tip of an arrow, fairly recently if I had to guess because there wasn’t any discoloration around the edges yet and they were still rather rough. Why would someone have stabbed this particular picture with an arrow?

I read the caption aloud. “High King Peter and his Siblings hunt the White Stag.”

Something moved in the hall outside. I stepped away from the table just before Caspian’s uncle entered the room. For a moment I just stood there, frozen; then I bobbed a quick curtsy. He was the Lord Regent after all.

“Lady Reagan.” He bowed his head. “I see you have returned home.”

“Yes. Just this morning, my Lord. I couldn’t believe the news when I heard it. Prince Caspian has been kidnapped…by Narnians?”

“Yes, it is a terrible thing to behold,” Lord Miraz said as he moved deeper into the room. “I could not quite believe it myself.”

“But you…you caught them? Some of them, at least. You know where they took him?”

“Alas, we do not. We are searching the Shuddering Wood for his body.”

“His body?” I nearly shouted.

“A terrible thing to imagine, I know,” he replied, not sounding like he thought it such a terrible thing at all but rather an inevitability.

“But… if they wanted to kill him, why not just do it in the castle? Why kidnap him?” I asked.

“Who knows how these Narnians think? They do not see logic as you or I do.”

“Yes, …of course. How could they?” There was a beat of silence as he moved towards the table and I moved towards the door.

“I have another question, my Lord; if you would be so kind?”

Lord Miraz nodded his head.

“How did they manage it? How did the Narnians kidnap him? I find it hard to imagine that a few extinct beasts managed to penetrate our walls unnoticed by the guards.”

Lord Miraz didn’t respond right away and his eyes seemed to harden just a fraction more than they already were. “They had help, of course, from the inside.”

“Who?” I asked though I thought I knew the answer he’d give.

“The Prince’s tutor.”

“Dr. Cornelius?”

“Yes. It appears he conspired with the Narnians and has been for many years. We believe it was their intent to brainwash the Prince, turn him into one of them. Why, Prince Caspian may even have gone with them…willingly.”

“That’s not possible. Caspian wouldn’t turn his back on his own people,” I refuted.

Wasn’t it possible though? Wasn’t that exactly what I was trying to tell myself? Wasn’t I convinced that Caspian was under the influence of some kind of poison in that cave that made him cooperate with the Narnians? So, why didn’t I believe Lord Miraz when he said what I wanted to believe?

_“Don’t trust my uncle.”_

“But there’s no other explanation, is there?” I said, ignoring the Caspian in my head. “They have poisoned his mind. We have to help him. We have to save him before it’s too late.”

There was another long pause. “Of course, we shall try, Lady Reagan. We will do everything in our power to find him and bring him home. And I assure you, those responsible have been dealt with.”

_Dealth with?_ So the professor had been executed as well then.

“Now, you should be returning to your father. I am sure he has missed you,” Lord Miraz continued.

I nodded. “And I him. Good day, my Lord.” I curtsied again before heading towards the door. “Oh! I almost forgot. Congratulations on the birth of your son, my Lord.”

Lord Miraz smiled stiffly. “Thank you.”

“Does the young Prince have a name yet?”

“Miraz the second.”

I swallowed and struggled to maintain my smile. “Lovely.”

I hurried away before Lord Miraz could see the question and fear in my eyes. Only the king had ever given his own name to his firstborn son.


	3. Rites

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reagan learns of the Beruna attack and faces the fallout from it.

**Chapter 3**

**Rites**

There was a soft thump to the side of my face and the remains of a daisy chain fell beside me. I combed the rest out of my hair before turning to the girls beside me. I was with my friends, the same friends who were all vying for the title of my lady-in-waiting when I become queen. We were sitting on one of the grassy knolls outside the town walls enjoying the sunlight and fair breeze. Everything around us was so peaceful and calm, a vast contradiction to the war that was raging in my head.

Streya smiled and rolled her eyes when I looked at her. The other girls giggled. “Gods, Reagan. You’ve been such a bore since returning from Highcliff.”

“Highcliff is a bore,” Analee said.

Analee was the only person other than my father who had come to see me while I was in exile. Then again, Analee’s aunt on her father’s side was married to my father’s brother; so, she may have simply been there out of familial obligation. Only the gods know why anyone would willingly visit Highcliff for pleasure. That’s why I never held it against Caspian for not visiting.

“Take it easy on her, Streya,” Kavena said. “She’s probably worried about Prince Caspian...like we all are,” she added quickly as she looked at her hands to avoid looking directly at me. I’m not sure why she still tried to hide the fact that she fancied Caspian from me; I’d known about her infatuation for years.

“She’s only worried about her position as future queen,” Streya muttered.

“No. I am worried,” I said. “Caspian is our Prince; he’s meant to be our King and he’s been missing for nearly a week now and Lord Miraz is no closer to finding him or those responsible.”

“The General found the Dwarf, didn’t he?”

“One Dwarf did not take Caspian on his own.”

Streya rolled her eyes again. “That’s where the Tutor comes in.”

“Did you ever see Dr. Cornelius? He was an old man, older even than some of the books in his room. He would have fared no better than a single Dwarf. It doesn’t make any sense.”

None of it made any sense to me, and I had been waring with that ever since I encountered Caspian’s uncle three days ago. The state of Caspian’s rooms, the complete disarray of the Professor’s—like someone had been looking for something specific—the words of Lord Miraz contradicting the words of Caspian himself—Caspian, who I trusted beyond reason—and even my own doubts and questions were constantly plaguing my mind and giving me a headache.

“What good does sense do for Lady Mar’s son?” Streya continued. “Or the now widowed Lavira? Or for Kavena’s brother? Your precious sense won’t bring them back, Reagan.”

“What? What happened to your brother, Kavena?”

“He…”

“He died, Reagan, or haven’t you heard?” Streya replied before Kavena could get a word in.

“When was this, Kavena? How did it happen?”

“In the attack at Beruna.” Again, Streya replied before Kavena could. “He…”

“Shut up, Streya. I asked Kavena. She is more than capable of speaking for herself and she doesn’t need you to do it for her.” Streya huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. I turned back to Kavena and took her hand. “Please, Kavena, tell me what happened.”

Kavena pulled her bottom lip in between her teeth. Her eyes were downcast and her shoulders curled inward on her. Her cheeks were tinged pink with the sun and embarrassment. Kavena disliked being in the spotlight and more than that she hated discord of any kind. She would never stand as a strong queen, but she was kind and honest, and if given the proper guidance she could come into her own quiet sort of strength.

I gave her hand a gentle squeeze and waited for her to respond.

“The attack was four days ago, Reagan,” she took a shaky breath, “so you couldn’t have known about it. You were still at Highcliff, or on your way back. Karvone was at Beruna working on the new bridge when a band of Narnians attacked. He died along with Lady Mar’s son and Lavira’s husband.”

“I… I am so sorry, Kavena. I had no idea. But I… I am certain his was an honorable death. Alambil and Tarva will take favor on him and he will find rest in the life beyond. Gods be blessed.”

“Gods be blessed,” Kavena said in nothing more than a whisper.

My words brought little comfort to her. I didn’t know what else I could say, or if there even was something to say. Four days ago I was still being held by Caspian in that cave. Had he killed Kavena’s brother before setting me free? Did he even know that Karvone was dead or that Kavena was hurting? These were simply more questions to add to the cacophony in my head and aid the headache.

I found my father later that day working in his study. He looked up from his desk as I walked in.

“Did you have a nice morning with your friends?”

I shrugged. “It was nice to see Analee and Kavena again, but Streya is more pretentious now than when I left; I didn’t think that was possible.”

“She must share that trait with her father,” he replied, resuming his work.

I looked around at his collection of books, my fingers trailing over the many spines. I came across one that had gold lettering on it that was similar to the large book in Dr. Cornelius’s room. I pulled it out only to realize that the lettering was bronze, not gold. I slid it back into place and found myself oddly disappointed.

“Is Lord Sopespian still giving you trouble then?” I asked as I moved away from the books and sat in one of the chairs.

“He’s asking for more men.”

My father was the Lord of Highcliff by birth, but while we stayed in our apartments in Beaver’s Dam, my Aunt and Uncle ran the estate for him.

“There are no men left at Highcliff,” I said. “Believe me, I looked.”

“That’s what I tried to tell him…wait. What do you mean you looked?”

I grinned and shrugged a shoulder. “Just because I’ve been betrothed to Caspian since I was five doesn’t mean I stopped having eyes, Father. I can still look and admire. But there was nothing even remotely worth admiring at Highcliff.”

“You know, your mother thought there was something worth admiring at Highcliff once.”

“She must have taken the last bit then… fifty years ago.”

My father laughed; it was full and rich sounding, and it had been a while since I’d heard it. “It was not fifty years ago.”

“Forty-seven then,” I amended playfully.

“Though, it does feel like a lifetime ago.”

His smile reflected the strange mixture of wistfulness and nostalgia that his tone held. I could see the stress of court-life etched on his face like carvings on stone. His eyes drooped much more than they had a year ago, or even four months ago when last I saw him. His longing carved a crevice in my heart; it was not the sort of smile I liked seeing on his face. I much preferred the richness from before. He noticed my staring and he adjusted his features accordingly. The forced happiness was almost worse than the nostalgia.

“Perhaps, once Caspian and I are wed then you can take an extended leave and relax a little. You may go to Highcliff even…” I laughed “…if you so desire.”

His smile faded, and I thought it was because of Caspian.

“We’ll find him, Sir. Caspian is out there alive; I know he is. We will find him and bring him home.”

“I’m sure we will.” There was a stiffness to his smile now that told me he doubted his own words. I pushed the thought aside. We had to find Caspian and set things right.

“Does…Does Lord Sopespian want more men because of what happened at Beruna?”

“What do you know of the events of Beruna?” He leaned back in his chair slightly.

“I…” I was uncertain how much to reveal to my father about Caspian and my ordeal with the Narnians. For one, I wasn’t sure he’d believe me and for another, I knew he’d be angry at my lying to him. So, I chose a different route.

“I know that there are more Narnians still left than we thought possible. I know they attacked the bridge unit four days ago. And I know that Kavena’s brother was among those who lost their lives there,” I said.

“Yes, I was sorry to hear about Karvone.” He sounded quite remorseful, but then his appearance turned cold. “They will give rites to those who were slain tomorrow. You may stay for that, but then you are returning to Highcliff first thing.”

“What!? Father, no!”

“The matter isn’t up for discussion, Reagan.”

“I hate it there, Father. I know that’s where you grew up, but I find it such a bore. None of my friends are there. Please don’t make me go back.”

“There is a war brewing, Reagan; I do not want you tied up in it. You are going to Highcliff.”

“I’ll…I’ll run away again. I won’t stay there.”

“And that is why I’m sending you with Jessalynn via a carriage while Brenah remains here.”

“You’re taking back my horse?”

“Yes, for how long is determinant upon you and your behavior.”

“Fine. Send me off to Highcliff and perpetual boredom. Better yet, send me off to Calormen, then I’d really be out of your way. You wouldn’t even have to come to visit me then. We both know you only visited me at Highcliff out of obligation.”

“What? That is not true, Reagan. Reagan, come back here!”

My father called out to me as I left, but I slammed the door in my wake.

The next day was miserable. It rained. Hard. The ground turned to mush and squished when you walked. The bottom of my dress became caked with a line of mud so thick the laundress would never be able to get it all out. And there were three parting rites held for the soldiers who died in the Beruna attack—an attack led by my best friend either willingly or while under the influence of some spell; I still hadn’t decided which it was. Part of me feared for his safety while the other part hated him for what he did. It was giving me a headache.

Karvone’s parting rites were delivered last when the rain was heaviest. Still, I stood by Kavena and held her hand through it all. As I stood there watching as they poured the oil over his body, a distant memory came to mind:

I stood with Caspian at the mounds of our mothers. I was eight; Caspian was twelve. Their bodies were the first dead bodies I’d ever seen and their parting rites were the first I’d ever witnessed.

I don’t remember much from the actual ceremony, but I imagine someone poured the cleansing oil over their bodies and everyone repeated the liturgy as in any traditional parting rite. But I do remember our fathers crying and I remember Caspian reaching down to take my hand. He’d been a friend to me even then.

Two years later we stood together at another parting rite. This time it was for his father. As the liturgy was recited, I reached for his hand as he had for mine years before. It was our moment of solidarity. I was there for him and he was there for me. It’s how it always worked.

I knew then where I had to stand.

Near the end of Karvone’s parting rite, I looked around at those in attendance. The crowds were light because of the rain. I saw everyone I expected to see: Streya, Analee, Kavena’s mother and father, and her other brothers. Lord Sopespian was there, either because Streya was or because Karvone had been under his watch, I wasn’t sure. Lord Miraz and Lady Prunaprismia, however, were nowhere to be seen.

Then I caught sight of General Glozelle. His presence there wasn’t all that odd, I suppose, but his demeanor was. He stood at a distance alone, almost as though he didn’t want to be seen there. And there was something about the look on his face that I found unusual.

Immediately following the last prayer, I hugged Kavena’s neck and told her my father and I would be by later. Then I hurried towards the General. Lord Sopespian was already with him—he must have gone over during the prayer. Fortunately, Streya was still with Kavena and Analee. The two men were engaged in a whispered conflict that abruptly ended when I neared them.

“Lady Reagan,” Lord Sopespian began with that smile of his that always gave me the shivers. “I am pleased to see that your travels were well and uneventful.”

“Lord Sopespian, General Glozelle,” I greeted, keeping my shivers at bay. “My travels were like every day in Highcliff. ‘Uneventful’ is still a word that conveys too much excitement to properly describe how tedious they were.” I smiled. “It would seem that my return to court, as coincidental as the timing is, could not have come at a graver time though. I return to find my beloved missing and our great nation under attack by a source most foul.”

I let my eyes water just a little before pulling the mask of Steady Queen back over them. “But, I am quite glad that we have men, like the General here, who remain loyal to the crown and who uphold Our highest honor.” I looked at the General as I continued. “I am sure, General Glozelle, that you will find King Caspian soon and return him to his rightful place.”

“Of course, Lady Reagan, we shall do our best,” the General replied stiffly.

“Reagan!” Even I could hear the tension in my father’s voice as he called my name.

“Hello, Father. I was just commending the General in his efforts to find the King.” I smiled up at my father innocently before turning back to the General. “And I am certain that the late Queen Reanna—may she find rest in the life beyond—is pleased that her best men are doing their best work for King Caspian.”

“Prince,” Lord Sopespian corrected. “Caspian is still just a prince.”

I smiled. “You are mistaken, Lord Sopespian. You forget the day; I have not. Today is his eighteenth birthday. He is King by law. The crown is his birthright. To even hope for someone else is treasonous.”

I let my words sink in for a moment before clasping my hands before me and sighing. “Ah, well, I will allow you to go about your day. It was a pleasure speaking with you both, and thank you for coming out in this weather. Karvone is sure to find rest in the life beyond now, thanks to you.”

Lord Sopespian made his farewells to me and my father while General Glozelle remained silent; the General was always a man of few words. They both bowed their heads to me when they left, however. Once they were out of listening range, my father spoke to me.

“That was bold, Reagan.”

I smiled and looked up at him.

“Foolish, but bold.”

Whatever it was, I knew one thing for certain now. Lord Sopespian and General Glozelle were both hiding something.


	4. Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A stranger breaks into Reagan's bed-chamber.

**Chapter 4**

**Escape**

With all the rain, the carriage wheels weren’t able to move so my departure was delayed by a day. Still, my leaving Beaver’s Dam was inevitable.

“Lady Reagan, wake up,” Jessalynn instructed shaking my shoulder.

I groaned and rolled away from her.

“Now, Lady Reagan. Your father has permitted me to use extreme measures if needed.” Extreme measure usually meant a bucket of cold water. It was a most unpleasant way of waking up.

“No need for all of that, Jessa. I’m awake.” I threw my arm over my eyes to shield them from the bright morning sun, and I lay there waiting to feel its warmth on my skin.

Something was off…

I slowly peered around my arm. There was no bright morning sun. It was still pitch dark outside. The only light was coming from Jessalynn’s feeble candle. I groaned and threw my head back on the pillow.

“Ugh! It’s too early. Tell Father we can at least wait until dawn.”

There was no response, so I sat up and looked around. Jessalynn was quickly packing a small travel bag while simultaneously laying out my clothes to wear.

“I won’t be needing riding clothes if we are taking the carriage, Jessa.”

“I don’t think we will be taking the carriage today, Lady Reagan.”

I was really confused when she laid out a pair of leather arm braces.

“What are…?”

I was cut off by the sound of the bells ringing up at the castle. For a split second everything froze around us, then Jessalynn’s packing became more frantic and I scrambled out of bed to get dressed. _Here? They came here? Was Caspian among them? Or had they dispatched of him and were coming for more now?_

“Jessa! Help me with these!”

Jessalynn immediately stopped packing to help me strap on the braces. She was weaving my hair into a braid when a noise out in the hall made us pause again. I looked to where my sword sat in its corner. Jessalynn wasn’t finished with my hair, but there was no time to waste. I crawled across the bed to reach my sword and tossed the scabbard aside before running to meet the intruder at the door.

It was a strange man with dark messy hair and dark eyes. He stood about my height, maybe slightly taller, and he wore a blue tunic under leather vested armor. He wore a sword and a strange tubular device at his waist. His face looked young, but there was something about his eyes that told me he was older than he appeared. I didn’t recognize him from my father’s house—none of the boys who worked in my father’s house were that cute—and his clothing was not that of a typical Telmarine soldier. So, I did the only reasonable thing to do.

I swung my sword at his head.

He ducked, rolled into my room, leapt back to his feet, and pulled out his own blade to meet mine as it came down for another strike. We proceeded to exchange blows, and I quickly got the better of him. His moves became strictly defensive ones. I would have defeated him in a few simple moves, but Jessalynn screamed and cowered in a corner. I was annoyed by the distraction but was left with little choice. I positioned myself between the boy and Jessalynn. It wasn’t a very strategic move as I lost all my advantage; he literally had me cornered—but Jessalynn was my charge and I would not, could not fail her.

What’s strange though, the boy didn’t attack. He flicked his eyes down to Jessalynn and then took a step back.

“I didn’t come here to fight you,” he said.

“Says the strange boy with a sword in my bed-chamber.” I kept my sword leveled at his chest, ready to strike at a moment’s notice.

The boy slowly sheathed his sword and raised his hands. “Is that better?” he asked. His accent was one I hadn’t heard before.

“Hardly. You’re still a strange boy in my bed-chamber.”

“I’m Edmund.”

“Is that supposed to mean something to me?” I could see the annoyance begin to show on his face.

“I was sent here by Caspian to retrieve his friend Reagan. Time is of the essence. Do you know where she is?”

I paused slightly. Caspian may still be alive; he may be looking for me. Or…this could all be a ruse. “Never heard of her,” I said. “I think you should leave now.” I flicked my sword towards the door.

I could see the bit of doubt in his keen eyes—eyes that had seen far beyond what any boy his age should have seen—as he questioned whether or not he had the right place. Then those same eyes turned to wonder as he calculated what his next move would be if he was wrong. The bells were still ringing and we both knew reinforcements would be here soon. I saw his weight shift towards the door; I had him on the run.

“Reagan!” My father came into my room with the worst timing.

The boy’s eyes were back on mine, a mixture of mirth and irritation in them. I kept my eyes determined and my blade steady as my father took in the scene.

“Reagan, put the sword down,” he said calmly. “I’ll handle this from here.”

I glanced briefly at my father before turning back to the boy and smirking. “It’s an unfortunate day for you…Edmund.” I lowered my sword to my side, but I wasn’t about to cross the room to retrieve the scabbard just yet.

Meanwhile, the boy turned his attention to my father, his eyes glancing briefly at the window. I wasn’t sure what he was thinking with that move; my bed-chamber was on the second floor.

“I am Lord Morvyn of Highcliff,” my father said. “And I am, as I have always been, loyal to King Caspian the Tenth.”

“Then we have no quarrel, my Lord,” the boy, Edmund, replied.

There was a pause before my father replied. “Agreed.”

“Wait, what?” I asked looking between the two.

My father ignored me and pointed to Jessalynn. “Can you take the girl as well? Her father served me well for many years and I promised him her safekeeping.”

“What are you talking about?” Still, my father ignored me.

Edmund looked behind me to Jessalynn. “Can you ride?”

“Y-yes, milord,” Jessalynn replied, her voice shaking and giving way to her southern accent.

“As well as any, Your Majesty,” my father added.

“Majesty?” I asked, now utterly confused as I looked back at Edmund. Who was this boy?

“Then she will be safe with us; you have my word,” he said.

“The horses are saddled and ready, but you must hurry. They will be here soon.”

“Thank you, Lord Morvyn. Caspian thanks you as well.”

“Father! What in Tash’s hell is going on?” I stamped my foot in frustration. It was childish, I know, but I was tired of being ignored.

“Go, take her. Jessalynn, lead King Edmund to the stables.”

“Fa…”

“Reagan, I’m sorry. I wish there was more time to explain.” My father sounded apologetic as he turned his attention to me at last, and I felt guilty for cursing in front of him.

“Well…can you try to explain a little?” I asked.

He crossed the room to grab my discarded scabbard. “We have to do it on the move.” He took my arm as we quickly followed after Edmund and Jessalynn.

“Caspian wasn’t kidnapped,” he began. “Cornelius and I helped him escape.”

“What?”

“Miraz has been plotting to take the throne for years. It began with the death of King Caspian the Ninth, and I believe it was murder. It wasn’t until…”

A soldier stepped around the corner blocking our path forward and stopping my father mid-sentence. I could feel the air crackle around us. My senses were on high alert as my father slowly released my arm and stood tall.

“Lord Morvyn, Lady Reagan,” the soldier said. “It isn’t safe to be outside right now. You should return to your apartments.”

“Thank you for your concern, Baeloff, but we are fine. Please, resume your watch.” Somehow, my father knew the name, position, and duties of every man in the army.

Baeloff, however, did not move. I looked to my father nervously, but he remained firm in his stance. I tried to mirror his image and project the strong look of a Queen. Baeloff then turned his eyes to me. His eyes lingered on the hair hanging over my shoulder. It was then I recalled Jessalynn had never tied off my braid, and it had come loose in the fight. I felt the sinking panic of guilt and shame settle in my stomach. I tried to tame it back with one hand, but that inadvertently drew his attention to my other hand that still held my sword.

“Are you safe, Lady Reagan?” he asked.

I had to fight the tremor in my voice. “Perfectly,” I replied. “As my father said, Baeloff. You should resume your watch.”

A movement behind Baeloff caught my attention. I looked over his shoulder to see that Edmund had returned for us. Baeloff followed my eyes and saw the strange boy for himself. My father sighed beside me.

“I wished you would have listened.” Before Baeloff could turn back around to question my father, my father struck him down.

I jumped away from the falling body. “Father! What…?!”

“Get to the horses now, Reagan.” My father pushed my arm lightly in the direction of the stables. “Go. There will be more who come.”

I had no room left in my head to think as I left my father in the alley with Edmund.

Jessalynn was already mounting my father’s horse, Bryne, as I came in. Brenah was standing nearby, eager to leave and my traveling bag hanging off her saddle. I strapped my sword around my waist and moved towards her. I was rubbing her nose to calm her nerves and mine when my father and Edmund joined us. I rushed to him and tried to ignore the dark stain on his clothes.

“Father…”

“Reagan, there isn’t time enough to say all that needs to be said. I had hoped to keep you out of all of this…”

“Father, I knew Caspian wasn’t kidnapped. I’ve known since before I was home. I was there. I saw him. I…”

“Then it seems your fate is more deeply entwined with the Narnians than I realized.” My father and I kept cutting across one another. He kissed my forehead. “You have too little of your mother in you, and too much of me I fear.”

“Lord Morvyn,” Edmund called from behind us. My father pulled back.

“Go with King Edmund. He will get you to safety.”

“Wait, but you’re coming with us.” Even as I said the words I could hear the approach of more soldiers.

“Go, Reagan.” My father turned and drew his sword as the first of the soldiers came into view. “Tasmier, Kristo, Grenlich,” he greeted them each by name. “I urge you all to stand down.”

“We have our orders, Sir,” one of them said.

My father nodded his head. “Then do as you must just as I will do as I must.”

There seemed to be slight hesitancy on their part as they all looked to the one who had spoken. “Stop them,” he said at last.

One by one, they each drew their sword and began to approach. My father was a good fighter, but one against three isn’t an even match.

“No.” I drew my sword again and stepped up next to my father.

“Reagan, don’t!” he commanded but there was no time left to argue.

The nearest soldier came towards me while the other two went for my father. I parried the thrust that was sent my way retaliated with an offensive strike of my own. I don’t think he expected me to be as skilled as I was, that or his heart wasn’t really into it. Either way, I took advantage of my smaller stature and maneuvered around him with ease and quickly dispatched of him—knocking him out, not killing him. I turned to aid my father only to find that he was already being aided by Edmund on horseback.

“Get her out of here!” he said as the last man fell.

“Father…”

“Now, Reagan! Listen to your commanding Lord.”

“You promised you’d never say that again,” I replied with tears. Nevertheless, I sheathed my sword and allowed Edmund to pull me up behind him.

Edmund nodded his head at my father before directing Brenah away. “Don’t look,” he suggested quietly over his shoulder.

I couldn’t help it though. As we rode away, I looked back at my father. More soldiers had arrived. He fought hard, making himself the target and not us. He was quickly outnumbered though. Even as he dropped to a knee, he fought. I closed my eyes just as the final blow was made and buried my face in the back of Edmund’s shoulder.


	5. Numb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reagan and Jessalynn arrive at the How.

**Chapter 5**

**Numb**

We rode through the night, zigzagging through the wood until the sky turned red with the rising sun. My hair twisted and tangled like the knot in my chest. It would be a beast for Jessalynn to work out later, perhaps we’d even have to cut it off. After what happened in the stables, I doubted if I’d ever be queen; so what did it matter if I cut my hair. What did anything matter anymore?

We joined with another party somewhere along the way and slowed our pace to match theirs. Everyone remained silent. As the sun passed over the tree line we came across an open field. In the distance there sat an ancient ruin and beyond that a lone hill. It was what Caspian had called the How; the place I’d fled only a few days ago.

It wasn’t until much later before I took any of this in, however. When we first arrived my eyes were heavy and dry, and I had the sort of headache you only get from hours of crying. After we came to a halt and Edmund slid off Brenah, he turned to help me down; I practically fell into his arms. He had to catch me around the waist and steady me.

“Whoa. You all right?” he asked softly. I simply looked at him through narrow eyes. “Right. Dumb question.”

After he walked away, I just stood there like an idiot. Jessalynn came over, untied the bag from Brenah’s saddle, and tried to gently steer me towards the How’s entrance. There was some shouting and some hostile words exchanged but I didn’t know any of what was said or who said it. There was one familiar voice that caught my attention as we passed, however.

“Reagan! I… I’m so sorry…”

I looked up at Caspian as fresh tears tried to form. I didn’t know whether I should feel relief at seeing him alive or anger because he was in part the reason why my father was dead. In reality, I felt too much of both to be able to feel anything at all.

“With all respect, Your Majesty, but perhaps this could wait for a more appropriate time?” Jessalynn suggested as she hastily threw something over my head to cover my hair.

Caspian blinked in rapid succession and looked away. “O—of course. I-I should have realized.”

“Is there someplace we can go to freshen up?” she asked after Caspian fell silent.

“Oh. Right. Umm…” I assume Caspian looked around at this point, but as I was looking down at my feet I can’t say for certain.

“Reepicheep, will you escort the Lady Reagan and her maid to the Queen’s cavern please?”

“With pleasure, my Liege. If you would follow me, my ladies.”

I saw the tip of a red feather out of the corner of my eye before Jessalynn once again began steering me. I could both hear and feel her sharp intake of breath as she took in the central cavern with its many tunnels weaving in all directions and its wide assortment of Narnians partaking in subdued whispers. I kept my head low and saw nothing but the earthen floor, my own feet, and the hem of my skirt slowly collecting the dusty orange dirt.

“Yes, it’s quite remarkable isn’t it? Of course, it’s a bit dreary now,” Reepicheep said. “Nevertheless, we must maintain hope that Aslan will see us through. For if we lose faith in Him, then we have surely lost everything.”

Reepicheep, I noticed, had a rather high pitched and slightly squeaky voice. It was odd sounding. I briefly wondered if he was even human. Then I decided that at the moment I didn’t really care; I didn’t really care about anything just then.

“Here we are,” said Reepicheep. “Your Majesties—” I’m not sure how, but I knew he was bowing. “I present Lady Reagan and…ah…”

“My name is Jessalynn, Your Majesties.” I could feel Jessalynn dip into a curtsy beside me and I knew I should do the same, but I couldn’t bring myself to move.

“Hello there. Please, do come in.” The voice that welcomed us was warm and inviting.

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“Please, call me Lucy. And this is my sister Susan.”

Jessalynn led me to a small protrusion and encouraged me to sit. She removed the cloth from my head, an extra dress as it turned out, and proceeded to attempt to comb through my hair.

“Here, use some of my water. I find wetting it usually helps me.” This voice was different, more mature sounding.

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“It’s like Lucy said, call me Susan.”

“Are you all right, Reagan?” Lucy asked.

I was so taken by the sheer sincerity in the voice that I looked up at last. There were two girls in the cavern with us. The older one had hair that matched the dark color of Edmund’s and she had the same keen expression he had. The other girl, and somehow I knew she was the one named Lucy, had lighter colored hair but she shared Edmund’s youthful look. I wanted to speak to her. I wanted to answer her for some reason, but when I opened my mouth to do so, my lips merely trembled with a sob.

“My Lady grieves for her father,” Jessalynn replied. Her voice had a distinct tremble to it as well. “But she is strong. Even if she does not remember it just now, I know she will find her strength again.”

My eyes fell back to the floor as the tears progressed down my cheeks once more.

Lucy and Susan left us to our own silent grief as Jessalynn worked to detangle my hair. When she finally managed it, she wove it into a braid and tied it off with a piece of leather. She then suggested we tried to get some sleep since we’d been up all night, but every time I closed my eyes I saw my father. Jessalynn fell asleep easily, I couldn’t. So, I went in search of Caspian instead. As Caspian pointed out the first time I was here though, this place was a maze and I had no idea where to look for him; it didn’t take long for me to become lost.

“Perhaps I should have woken Jessa after all,” I said.

“Can we help you, Lady Reagan?”

I jumped and looked around but I couldn’t see anyone.

“Down here,” the voice directed somewhat impatiently.

I looked down and nearly jumped again. There was a large Mouse with big round eyes looking up at me. The Mouse carried a sword as long as its tail and wore a gold circlet with a red feather around its ear. It blinked expectantly at me and I realized I’d been staring.

“Sorry, I…I was looking for Caspian but I…I’m not sure where to look. I’m not even sure where the cavern I was in is anymore.”

“You’re not far from it. You’ve only gone one tunnel over.”

“Really? I thought I’d taken more turns than that. I really am complete rubbish at mazes.”

The Mouse laughed. “We all must have something which pushes us to better ourselves. You were looking for King Caspian, you say?”

“Yes.” I nodded. “Have you seen him?”

“Not recently. Peepiceek? Have you seen King Caspian nearby?”

I looked behind me to see who the Mouse was talking to and this time I did jump again. Three other Mice were standing behind me. “Oh! Gods, there’s more of you.” Too late I realized that could be perceived as being rude.

“I apologize, again,” I said. “It’s not every day I find myself talking to…a…mouse.”

“Up until a week ago, it wasn’t every day we found ourselves talking to a Telmarine,” the first Mouse said.

I thought about his words for a moment. I hadn’t considered the fact that this might be as weird for the Narnians as it was for me.

“Fair point. So, about Caspian then?” I asked the first Mouse and he looked to the other one.

“Last I saw of him, he was with Nikabrik,” the second Mouse said.

“I’m sorry; I don’t know who that is.”

“Nikabrik is a Black Dwarf from the Shuddering Wood,” the first Mouse said.

“There are Dwarves in the Shuddering Wood?”

“Indeed there are.”

“What else lives in the Shuddering Wood? Who! Who else,” I quickly corrected.

“There are many good Beasts who make their home there: the Bulgy Bears, Pattertwig, Clodsley the Mole, Trufflehunter, and Trumpkin to name a few.”

“Trufflehunter? I know that name. Why do I… He’s a badger?”

“That he is.”

“He…he offered me some water last time I was here. I’m afraid I was rather rude to him as well.” I worried my lip between my teeth.

The Mouse with the red feather laid his paw on my arm. “A learning curve is to be expected, my Lady. Trufflehunter is wise; he knows this.”

“Thanks.” I smiled softly. “Still, Fa—” I swallowed the lump in my throat and took a shaky breath before continuing. “Father would want me to make my amends to him.” I wiped away the tear that had fallen at the simple mention of my father.

“But first, Caspian and Nikabrik. Where did you last see them, Peepiceek, was it?” I asked what I thought was the right Mouse.

He nodded. “They were heading to the room with the Stone Table.”

“I don’t know where that is either.”

“No fear! We will lead you there, Lady Reagan,” the first Mouse said.

“Thank you.”

Along the way, the Mice introduced themselves. The one with the red feather was named Reepicheep, the same Reepicheep who had escorted me and Jessalynn to our cavern earlier. Reepicheep was the Chief Mouse and Peepiceek was his second in command. There were eight other talking Mice under Reepicheep’s command.

As we neared our destination, we heard what sounded like fighting. The Mice quickened their pace by running on all fours. I followed their lead and hurried as well. We came to a large open cavern. Framing the cavern was a flaming oil trench. There was a large stone table in the center that was broken in half and three dead bodies scattered around, two were of creatures I couldn’t name and the third appeared to be a short man with long black hair; Lucy and another little man—this one with red hair—stood over him.

There was a square archway beyond the table that was covered in ice. A tall, beautiful woman was trapped inside; it was the same woman from the book in the Professor’s room. Caspian and a boy with blonde hair stood before the ice wall. The Mice ran forward to help but before they could do anything a sword pierced the woman from behind. The ice wall crumbled revealing Edmund with his sword raised above his head.

“I know,” he said to the blonde boy. “You had it sorted.”

Edmund left through a side entrance, for which I was thankful. I didn’t think I was ready to speak to him just yet; he had broken into my bed-chambers, and I didn’t know how to confront that. Caspian, however, slowly looked my way before making his way over. The grief and shame were evident on his face.

“Can we go somewhere to talk?” I asked.

He nodded and I followed him through the maze. I distinctly noticed the path he took kept us away from the Narnians; whether that was for his benefit or mine, I wasn’t sure. We stepped out onto a small ledge that overlooked the field (this was when I first noticed the ruins). The field and the How were completely encapsulated by the forest. The bright morning sun was well into the sky at this point and it bore down upon us almost painfully. We had to squint and shield our eyes just to see. When we reached the ledge, we sat in silence for a long while.

“I—”

“Reagan, I—” We both began at the same time.

“You go first,” he said wearily. It occurred to me then, this must have been a long night for him as well.

“I tried to do what you said. I tried to find the answers for myself,” I said. “So I went to your bed chambers.”

Caspian made a face. “I am sorry for what you must have seen there.”

“That’s just it though, your chambers were perfect.”

“Perfect?”

“Yes! Everything was in place; nothing was misaligned.”

“And you are certain that these were my chambers and not your own?” he asked.

“I think I know my chambers from yours, Caspian. Even the bed curtains were new.”

“New?” He sighed. “My uncle was trying to cover it up.”

“Yes; I believe he was. So, I went by the Professor’s rooms.”

“Wow, Reagan. You must have been feeling exceptionally brave.”

“I’m not even sure how I survived the mess. I think I’ve blocked most of it out to protect my delicate sense.” Caspian smiled slightly; the morning sun casting a shadow over his cheek. “But, I…” I looked back across the field before us and over the square ruin below us. “I do recall encountering your uncle there.”

“And how did that go?”

“He told me the Professor aided the Narnians in your abduction, that they were brainwashing you and trying to make you one of them.”

“It’s not true, Reagan. I—”

“I know, Caspian,” I said, cutting him off.

“You…know?”

I nodded. “Your uncle… He said everything I’d been telling myself. He said what I wanted to believe, but when he said it…the words tasted like a lie.” Caspian looked relieved, almost like he feared I’d still think him mad. “I need to know something though, Caspian. Tell me about Beruna.”

“Beruna?” He looked confused now. “What about Beruna?”

“What happened there? The attack you led, about a week ago I guess.”

“Attack? We didn’t attack Beruna. We raided the camp for supplies: weapons, armor, and food. But we went at night; no one saw us and no one was injured.”

He must have seen it in my face.

“Why? What did my uncle say happened?”

“He led everyone to believe there was a brutal attack and two days ago I attended three parting rites for the soldiers who died in the attack.”

“We didn’t kill anyone, Reagan. You have to believe me.”

“I do, but, Caspian, there’s more. Karvone’s was one of the rites I attended.”

Though they weren’t particularly close, I knew that Caspian considered Karvone to be one of his friends. What’s more, I suspected he was keen on Karvone’s sister. Caspian set his jaw into a firm line as he took in the news. As I had years ago, I reached for his hand.

“How—” he swallowed. “How is Kavena?” For some reason, I couldn’t find joy in being right.

“She is well,” I said heavily. “As well as to be expected, at least.”

“And how are you?”

I said nothing and kept my eyes turned away from him, afraid I wouldn’t be able to hold off the tears again if I looked at him. He squeezed my hand.

“I am sorry about your father, Reagan; Edmund told me. I…I never intended for this to happen.”

“I…I know.” I swallowed and turned my face to him. “I don’t really know how I am. A few hours ago I was in an endless stream of tears. But now I’m…”

“Numb?”

“Yeah. That sounds about right.”

“I’m so sorry, Reagan. I feel like this is all my fault.”

I turned away from him again and looked out over the field. “Did Edmund tell you how my father died, Caspian?”

“Reagan…”

“Fighting. He died fighting, Caspian. He died fighting for you, for this, for a cause he believed in—a cause which I know nothing about. And he did so because he knew what I know. You’re a good man, Caspian, and you’ll be a good King, a better King than Miraz could ever be. You’ll make mistakes, quite possibly a lot of them.”

“Thanks?”

“We _both_ will,” I emphasized. “But we’ll have something your Uncle will never have.”

“What’s that?”

“Each other, and the support of the people, and the Narnians.”

“That’s three things. Is there a fourth? There’s usually a fourth with you.”

“Me?”

“You already said ‘you.’”

“Yes….but it’s me. I’m special.”

“That’s one word for it.”

I bumped his shoulder and he smiled.

“Thanks, Reagan. I really am glad you’re here. I don’t think I could do this without you.”

“Of course you could just…not as well.” I tried smiling, but after so much crying it felt wrong. I couldn’t hold the smile for long before I felt the prick of tears returning and I had to look away again. Caspian, thankfully, said nothing; he simply squeezed my hand again as we continued on in silence.


	6. Honor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reagan gets a lesson on history and honor.

**Chapter 6**

**Honor**

I left Caspian sitting outside on the ledge; he needed some time alone to process the loss of his tutor and friend. I wandered the tunnels—not having a clue where I was going—as I recited the prayers to the gods. I’d been rather lax with them that morning given all that had happened. When I came to the admittance prayers to Alambil and Tarva though, I found myself unable to continue. I thought of my father’s last acts, of how they would be viewed by everyone left in Beaver’s Dam, or how Miraz would spin them. I thought of what would happen to his body, knowing all too well what Miraz would have done. I stopped to wipe away the tears as the searing pain in my chest returned.

I’d unknowingly stopped in front of a wall of parietal art and in trying to make the tears stop I got lost in the story the art was trying to tell. Many of the drawings were faded and hard to decipher, but there was one towards the end that seemed highly familiar. It depicted two kings and two queens on horseback hunting a stag. It was eerily similar to the picture in the old history book I’d found. I walked closer to the wall and discovered that one of the kings bore a remarkable resemblance to Edmund.

“It must be one of his ancestors,” I whispered to myself.

“It’s not.”

I jumped at the sound of Edmund’s voice nearby. I turned and saw him sitting against the wall behind me.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he apologized.

“You have a knack for that, don’t you?”

“For what exactly? Startling you?”

“For sneaking around dark tunnels all quiet like and for sneaking into girls’ bed-chambers in the dark of night.”

“I wasn’t actually sneaking around these tunnels. I’ve been sitting here for quite a while now just…thinking…praying.” He looked around with a hint of sorrow in his dark eyes. “You are the one who came upon me. And as for the matter of bed-chambers… I’ve never entered one without the girl’s explicit permission before, but you left me little choice.”

“How so?” Though in my mind I knew I should keep away from this strange boy, there was something about him that drew me in.

“How so? You attacked me!”

“I did not. I was defending my chambers. You broke into our apartments.”

“Under the direct request of your friend and King,” he defended. “I told Caspian he should be the one to fetch you, but he and Peter were too busy trying to one-up the other to pay mind to anything else.” Edmund looked down at his hands where he toyed with an old ring.

“Caspian has never been to my bed-chambers; no boy has.”

Edmund looked up, one brow arched. I realized then I’d offered a bit of information that was unasked for and unnecessary. I felt my body flush with heat.

“Good. You are much too young for that.”

I scoffed at the slight. “Like you’re any older.”

“I was once.” Again I noticed that distant sorrow in his eyes.

I should have left. I knew I should have left. Being in Edmund’s presence was no good. He openly admitted to being in other girls’ bed-chambers, but for some reason, I couldn’t bring myself to move. I just watched him as he went back to toying with the ring in his hands. He rubbed his thumb over it. He spun it around his finger. He flipped it over from one hand to the next. I couldn’t make out what sort of ring it was; I saw no adornments on it of any kind. It looked rather plain and dull to me.

When Edmund tilted his head up, I quickly looked away and pretended to be taking great interest in my hair. I tucked a loose strand behind my ear. And then I tucked another, and another. There were quite a few loose strands. Jessalynn hadn’t done her usual standard of precision. I would have to ask her to do my hair again soon.

“I’m glad you got the knot out.”

“What?” I looked back at Edmund, confused as to what he was talking about.

“Your hair, it looked pretty knotted when we arrived at the How. I’m glad you managed to untangle it. It looks nice now. Not that it looked bad before, or anything, just…I know my sisters hate having knots in their hair.”

“My hair?” I was mortified he was talking about my hair. “You saw my hair when we arrived? When it was…down?”

“Yes, I…”

“Oh! Gods forgive.” I placed a hand over my heart to slow the rapid beating. I tried and failed, to steady my breaths. “First my bed-chamber. Now my hair.”

Edmund pushed himself off the ground, dropped the ring into his pocket, and took a step towards me. I jumped away from him; he halted his approach.

“I…I’m sorry. I’ve clearly said something more to upset you, but I can’t figure out what it was. We were just talking about hair.”

“We were _not_ just talking about hair. We weren’t talking about _your_ hair. We were talking about my hair. But of course…” I took a deep, shaky breath and closed my eyes. “But of course you wouldn’t understand. You are not one of us.”

“Can you help me to understand? Please?”

I took in deep, even breaths while I kept my eyes closed. I let the world melt away around me and with it the panic. When I opened my eyes again, Edmund was still waiting quietly. “It’s…It’s an old Telmarine custom. It’s older than old; it’s ancient. In fact, many…many of the young common girls no longer practice it; they say it’s primitive and archaic. But it is encouraged among girls of nobler birth and for one like me it is…expected. A…” I took another deep breath. “A Lady’s hair is not to be seen un-made except by her husband. My own father hasn’t seen my hair un-made since I was five.”

“Ah. I see.”

“Yes. That’s the problem,” I muttered. Edmund had the faintest smirk on his face before he wiped it away.

“Well, I deeply and sincerely apologize for the sin of mine eyes. If it would help amend your honor, I would gouge them out if but to keep them from committing you such offense again.”

I stared at him, eyes scrunched in curiosity and confusion. Again, I found myself wondering who this strange boy was. He couldn’t be serious, and yet he looked completely earnest.

He took out his dagger. “Shall I begin?”

“What! Eww! No!”

He sighed in dramatic fashion, shoulders slumping. “Oh good, because I quite like my eyes where they are.”

There was a beat of silence between us. And another. Finally, he dropped his head and smiled.

“I apologize, my humor is lost on you. It was a poor attempt to make you smile, but I should not jest about something which you so obviously care about.”

I paused and looked away from him. “I’ve always thought it was a stupid custom, actually. But Mother believed in it. I do it to honor her.”

“Well if it helps, I really don’t recall seeing anything come to think of it. I didn’t even know you had hair until you mentioned it.”

“You mentioned it.”

“Oh. Right.”

“And saying you didn’t notice I had hair, is like saying you didn’t notice I was a girl.”

“Oh no. _That_ I noticed.”

I stared at Edmund again. I didn’t know what to make of his last comment, so I chose to ignore it, even if my cheeks flushed against my will. It didn’t matter anyway; I was betrothed to Caspian.

“You are a strange boy.”

“Believe it or not, that’s not the first time I’ve heard that.”

“Oh, I believe it.” He smiled and laughed; I almost did too. “Would…would you really have done it? Would you have gouged out your own eyes?”

“If law and custom demanded it, I would be so obliged. But only after _thoroughly_ exhausting _all other_ possibilities including but not limited to all-out warfare that my brother and irate sisters waged on my behalf.”

I smiled. It was small and fleeting, but it was a genuine smile brought on by amusement.

“It’s all right to smile, you know. Even in the midst of grief, it’s all right.”

I shook my head. “It doesn’t feel all right.”

“I know, but it won’t always feel that way.”

I fell silent again and looked away to avoid his gaze. I looked down at his feet first, and then off to my right and the wall of parietal art. “So, who are they?” I asked.

“Who?”

I nodded to the wall. “If they’re not your ancestors, then who are they?”

“It’s me. And that’s Peter, Susan, and Lucy as well.”

“That’s not possible. These drawings are hundreds of years old, and these four here are older there than you are now.”

“What you say is true; they are hundreds of years old, and yet I speak truly as well.”

“How can that be?”

“What do you know of the history of old Narnia?” he asked.

“I…” I had to look away as I admitted how little I knew. “Tales of Old Narnia are forbidden. As far as our history is concerned, the New World began the day our ancestors fled Telmar.”

“Then there is much you are missing out on. Would you like me to show you?” He held his hand out to the wall he’d been sitting against. There was more parietal art there.

I nodded and walked over with him.

“In the beginning,” he pointed to the first drawing: a shapeless black smear. “There was nothing. No light. No life. Just an empty expanse. Then Aslan appeared.”

“Aslan?” I repeated the name softly. It was strange. The mention of the name made me feel lighter, like a burden I didn’t know I was bearing was lifted quite suddenly. The air in the tunnel felt warm and smelled sweet like honey or a spring meadow. I turned to Edmund; he was smiling.

“I know how you feel. There’s something about that name.” We paused for a moment as the name settled over us a little more. Then, Edmund began again. “Aslan came and He made the land to form, the waters to run, the trees to grow, and He crafted each beast into being. From Fauns to Satyrs, Dwarfs to Giants, Centaurs to…”

“Mice?” I interrupted again, thinking of the red-feathered Reepicheep.

“To mice,” he said with a faint smile as he looked at me. “Aslan created them all and He breathed life into each one of them.”

I turned back to the cavern wall. I could see the pictures unfolding before me as Edmund continued his tale. He told of the first men who came into Narnia and of the evil they unknowingly brought. And he told of how the same men would fight and protect Narnia from that evil. Then he told me about the Great Winter in which the witch Jadis ruled. Jadis was the tall beautiful woman from the Professor’s text and the same woman in the ice wall earlier. She used her magic to enslave Narnia in perpetual winter that lasted a hundred years. His story continued with the arrival of him and his siblings from a strange world called Inglan. They arrived and ended the Winter by fighting alongside Aslan and the Narnians.

“We ruled here for many years and Narnia was at peace once more,” Edmund continued. “Then, one day we were out hunting the White Stag—a mythical creature that would grant the wish of any who caught it. In the process, we stumbled back through the portal that brought us here and we were made young again. You see, for all the time we spent here no time had passed at all in our world. And for the one year we spent back there, over a thousand years have passed here.”

“I know a lot can change in a single year, but I can’t imagine a thousand years’ worth of change in only a year.”

“Yes, it’s…it’s quite hard for me to process as well.” His hand drifted to the pocket where he had dropped the ring earlier, and that same sadness washed over his features. I had a strange feeling there was more to the story that he wasn’t telling.

He coughed to clear his throat. “It’s been a long day for us both. You—you would probably like some rest. I can show you back to your cavern if you’d like.”

“Thanks; that’s probably for the best. It might take me a thousand years to find my way there on my own. I really hate mazes.”

He smiled. “Yeah, Caspian warned us about that.”

“Ugh.” I rolled my eyes. “He’s so insufferable sometimes.”

Edmund fell silent for a while as we walked. “You and Caspian…you’re pretty close?”

“Yes. He…he’s my best friend.” Caspian was more than simply my best friend; he was my betrothed. I don’t know why I didn’t tell Edmund that, though. “We’ve known each other our whole lives. Our mothers were best friends, cousins even. He’s practically my brother.” Still, I didn’t tell him. _Why_? I wondered.

Edmund nodded. “Good. That’s good.”

“Why?”

“I…I just mean that it’s good to have friends.”

“You don’t think a girl like me can have friends?”

“I never said that. Why do girls always put words in my mouth that I never said?”

“Maybe because it’s fun to watch you squirm?” I laughed softly. Laughing, even just the little that I had, felt more wrong than the smiling did. I felt a stab of pain twist in my chest and I struggled against it the rest of the way.

We arrived outside the Queen’s cavern soon after in silence. It was empty. I think Edmund could sense that I didn’t want to be alone with my thoughts just then because he offered to stay with me. I looked at him sharply.

“I won’t go into your bed-chamber again without your permission, king’s honor.” He held up the first three fingers on his right hand. “We can sit out here if you like, or we can go in search of my sisters.”

“No, here…here’s fine I guess.” To be honest, I was quite tired and didn’t feel like walking anymore. “It’s not like I could go in there and sleep anyway.”

“Not accustomed to the bedrolls?” he asked with a teasing smile.

“No. Well, yes, but it’s not that.” I faintly smiled back, but it faded quickly. “It’s just that…every time I close my eyes…”

“You see your father,” he finished for me.

I nodded as the stabbing pain in my chest grew a little stronger and began to pierce my eyes.

“I wish I could tell you there was some easy fix, a quick solution that could take your pain away or at the very least dull it, but there’s not. There is only…”

“Time.” This time I finished his sentence. “I know. My mother died six years ago, and I still miss her; it still hurts, but it hurts less. Her death though…it was different. There…there was an ending to it, a sort of relief.”

“Had she been sick?”

“No, but her death was honored. She was buried. She found rest in the life beyond; my father won’t.”

“Why not?”

“He died as a traitor in the eyes of the Telmarines. His body won’t be cleansed with the oils. The prayers won’t be recited at his mound; he won’t even have a mound of his own. And without the oils and the prayers, Alambil and Tarva won’t permit him admittance to the High Heavens. He won’t find rest there.”

“I…I don’t know much about the High Heavens or Alambil and Tarva—except that they were Narnian stars in our day—but I do know that your father was _not_ a traitor. He fought for Caspian. He fought for Narnia.”

“He fought against his own men.” The tears had started to fall and I wiped at them in angry frustration.

“The moment they chose to follow Miraz they stopped being your father’s men. Your father, Reagan, died with a clear conscience, free of sin, and pardoned of all wrong.”

“How? You can’t possibly say that with certainty.”

“I can and I do. I’m the one who pardoned him, by the power vested in me by Aslan when He made me King. I was given the title of The Just by my people; the law was my domain. Furthermore, your father died in service of the True King of Narnia, and there can be no death more honorable than that. Aslan will grant him rest.”

I was overcome with an emotion that later I could only describe as relief. Unable to speak. Unable to breathe. My shoulders shook violently. And for the second time in less than a day, I cried on Edmund’s shoulder.


	7. Council

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Narnians hold a war council.

**Chapter 7**

**Council**

“That’s your plan? Sending a little girl into the darkest part of the forest alone?”

“It’s our only chance.”

“And she won’t be going alone.”

I rubbed my eyes wearily. I hadn’t slept much through the night, despite Edmund’s assurances that my father’s death was an honorable one, and now Miraz had arrived with the full backing of the army. The only way he could have amassed such a following is if he had been declared King. Caspian and I suspected this would happen, but I thought we’d have more time; it had barely been a day.

We were in a war council trying to devise our next plan of action. Edmund’s older brother Peter, he was the blonde one from the ice-cavern, was doing most of the talking. His plan was to send Queen Lucy into the woods in search of Aslan. By the sound of it, Trumpkin, a Dwarf, put little stock in Aslan. I didn’t know Aslan, but I would keep my prayers with the gods.

“If I may?” Caspian said as he stood up.

He approached the center of the room hesitantly. I watched and tried to listen as he proposed single combat against his uncle, but my head was foggy. It was hard to focus on any one thing for long. Not to mention, there were several Narnians in the room and it felt like they kept staring at me; it was highly unnerving, especially when the large Centaur named Glenstorm did it.

I caught Edmund staring at me a few times as well; though, maybe that was because I kept looking at him. We hadn’t been alone together since our talk. I was hardly ever alone now. Apparently, Jessalynn woke to find me missing and she panicked. She had the whole How searching for me, worried I’d been kidnapped. Queen Lucy was the one who first noticed that her brother was missing as well and she had a couple of Wolves sniff him out. They, of course, found us sitting outside the Queen’s Cavern where I had, evidently, cried myself to sleep on Edmund’s shoulder. Jessalynn was less than pleased—though she’d never verbally say so—and now she wouldn’t let me out of her sight.

I met Edmund’s eye on the last time he looked at me and I stared back at him. For a brief moment, it was like we were caught in some impenetrable vortex and we couldn’t look away. All at once, I saw him rolling into my bed-chamber, clashing blades with mine, aiding my father on horseback, and riding away with me. I recalled the look in his eye as he told me the history of Narnia and how proud and honored he was to call it home. Then I saw him up close and personal as he held me around the waist, my hair loose and tangled around me.

I tore my eyes away from him violently as I felt a surge of heat rush to my cheeks. I tried to push the image of him aside but failed. My senses were flooded with the scent of him. There was the distinct odor of man after several days of work, mixed with that of an animal barn, but beneath all of that there was something sweet almost like honey but better; I couldn’t place what it was. None of this, of course, did my flushing cheeks any justice.

“My Lady?” Jessalynn whispered in my ear, causing me to jump.

“I’m fine, Jessa. It’s…it’s just a bit warm in here.” I fanned myself and looked back at Edmund. Thankfully, he had looked away, and hopefully, he had never noticed my blush.

“I will deliver the message,” Edmund said.

_Message? What message was that?_ I really needed to pay more attention. I forced myself to focus on the council.

Peter and Caspian replied to Edmund; Trumpkin and Glenstorm did as well. _Oh. Right. The challenge of single combat._ Peter was going to face Miraz. I could tell Caspian wasn’t pleased about it as he wanted to be the one to face him, but he didn’t fight Peter on the matter. Honestly, I agreed with Edmund and Peter; Miraz wouldn’t accept a challenge from Caspian. Once that matter was settled, they began discussing what they would do should Miraz decline or fail to keep his word.

“Are there any questions?” Peter asked.

“I have one,” I found myself saying. No one was more surprised than I was when I responded.

“Reagan?” Caspian questioned. They were definitely all staring at me now, including Edmund again.

“I…I want to know what happens when this is over.” I wasn’t sure where to look, so my eyes kept wandering. “I have a fairly good idea what happens if we lose, but what becomes of us if we win? What becomes of the Telmarines if we win?”

“I think that can wait until the war is over,” Peter replied without pausing to consider what I’d said. He turned away from me and suddenly my eyes found a target.

“I would disagree,” I replied firmly, rising to my feet. “This is our home, the same as it is yours.” I looked around the room. “We have never known differently, so you cannot cast us out.”

“Why not? It is no less than what you Telmarines did to us,” one Narnian said; I didn’t know who or even what it was.

“It would only brew resentment and hatred deeper than what we’ve already known. In a generation or two we’d have another war on our hands. Is that really what you want?”

“But Miraz…”

“Yes, Miraz is foul and wicked and cruel beyond reason,” I interrupted the speaker. “But we are not all like that. There are many of us who remain loyal to Caspian. Like my fa…” I choked on the lump in my throat and had to swallow back the pain. “Like my father was. 

“I know there must be others. Lords Donnon, Montoya, Reltaz, and Soltaz were all frequent guests at Highcliff and good men. They were friends of my father and all of a like mind. I know they would be loyal to Caspian if given the chance.”

“They were given the chance and they declined,” Peter said.

“Were they?” I briefly looked at Caspian; he shrugged and I turned back to Peter. “When? When were they given the chance? When you attacked the castle? Did you visit each of their bed-chambers and extend an offer like you did mine?” I glanced at Edmund; he had a faint smile but said nothing. “I didn’t think so.”

“What would you have us do then, Lady Reagan?” Susan asked. She, at least, sounded like she truly wanted my input.

“Speak to them,” I replied. “All of them, not just Miraz. Let them know that Caspian does not fault them for following Miraz when they didn’t know otherwise. And give them a chance and an assurance they won’t be held accountable if they lay down arms now.”

“Amnesty?” Edmund said. I jumped slightly at the sound of his voice. I couldn’t tell if his tone was doubtful or curious. “You want amnesty for any man who chooses not to fight against us?”

I nodded.

“They would have to choose not to fight at all. Their Telmarine armor would be indistinguishable from the others,” Glenstorm said.

“It’s too risky. They could turn on us easily,” Trumpkin added.

“It would be an equal risk for them to sit out if we lost,” I said.

“True and if they did turn we’d be no worse off than we are now, _but_ if they chose to lay down arms, Pete, it would weaken their numbers,” Edmund said.

Peter seemed to consider it for a moment. Then he looked at me. “Do you believe they would accept it?”

“I…I don’t think _that_ really matters,” I replied. “My father made a similar offer to the soldiers who came after us. I think he knew they would decline but he still made the offer.”

Peter just stared at me, his face blank and expressionless. I knew he would tell me it was a rubbish idea and that I wasted precious time. Instead, he nodded.

It was decided. Lucy and Susan would ride off to find Aslan and seek His help. We had a plan in place for if—or when—the Telmarines decided to attack; meanwhile, Peter would challenge Miraz to single combat, and Edmund and I would deliver the message. Caspian didn’t want me to go; he thought it was too dangerous, but Peter had suggested—and Edmund agreed—that the message of amnesty needed to be offered by someone the Telmarines knew and trusted.

After the council meeting, I returned to our cavern with the girls to prepare for our separate missions. While Jessalynn began laying out my clothes, Lucy kept looking at me and giggling. She whispered something to her sister, and then Susan looked at me and smiled as well.

“Do…do I have something on my face?” I touched my cheek in worry. “Jessa, did you pack a looking glass?”

“You don’t have anything on your face,” Susan said.

I took the looking glass from Jessalynn anyways, just to be sure. There was nothing there like Susan said, but I could see dark spots forming beneath my eyes. I would have to make sure Jessalynn covered those before I left.

“Then what’s so funny?” I asked.

“My sister and I noticed something curious during the council meeting.”

“Edmund couldn’t take his eyes off you,” Lucy finished with a giggle.

“Oh.” I could feel my cheeks turning red again and I had to fight a smile. “So I wasn’t imagining that?”

“No.” Lucy giggled harder.

“And I noticed,” Jessalynn began, “that my Lady couldn’t take her eyes off of him either?” She shot me a pointed look while Lucy and Susan’s giggles turned into laughter.

“I was not looking at Edmund,” I lied terribly. “I was looking beyond him to the wall.”

“Oh? And I suppose you weren’t sleeping on his shoulder last night either?” Susan teased.

Lucy giggled. “Yes, what was that about?”

“It…it was nothing.” Why wouldn’t my cheeks stop burning? “I couldn’t sleep so I wandered the tunnels. He found me and walked me back to the cavern, but by then Jessa was gone. I think he knew I didn’t want to be alone so he offered to stay and we talked. He must be an exceptionally dull conversationalist for me to have fallen asleep as I did.”

“Why didn’t he just carry you to your roll though?”

“Because he, at least, has some manner of decency and he vowed never to enter my bed-chambers again.” There was silence as Lucy and Susan stared at me. I don’t think they believed my story very much.

“That may be…” Susan said slowly.

“But I still think you were looking at him during the council meeting.” Lucy smiled.

“Ugh. All right, _if_ I looked, and I’m not saying I did so consistently, it is only because I missed having something relatively pleasant to look at. And between the two of your brothers, Edmund is by far the better one to look at. There was nothing worth looking at in Highcliff.”

“So, you admit that you like him?” Lucy said.

“I don’t think I said that at all.” Now I understood Edmund’s complaint about girls putting words in his mouth; he clearly meant his sister. I looked to Jessalynn for help.

“You know, I thought the Highcliff stable master’s son was rather worth looking at,” Jessalynn said.

_Gods be blessed._ “Do you mean Enrik?” I could see Lucy’s eyes brighten as she found a willing participant for her talk of boys.

Jessalynn nodded. “He was very nice too. He taught me how to ride, even though I already knew how. Of course, he didn’t know that at the time.”

Lucy giggled. “You must tell us all about him.”

I grinned, relieved, as I grabbed my clothes off the bedroll. Jessalynn had chosen a simple white shift dress coupled with a white-leather and bone corset. The corset was both fashionable and practical as it would serve as my armor. As I turned to make my way behind the changing screen, I caught Susan’s smirk. She knew, very well, the tactic I had employed with her sister. While I changed, Lucy and Jessalynn continued to talk about Enrik but Jessalynn didn’t let that stop her from tending to her duties. She had laid out my boots and sword and all the things she needed to do my hair with, including delicate white flowers.

“Are those Queen’s Flower?” I asked as I stepped back around the screen.

Jessalynn nodded happily. “The ground is littered with them here. Of course, I asked before picking any. I wasn’t sure what I’d use them for when I did, but I knew they would come in handy.”

“Jessa, you’re brilliant,” I said sincerely. I could be mistaken, but I’m pretty sure her cheeks turned ten shades redder than mine ever did with that compliment.

I sat on the floor in front of her and she proceeded to comb out the existing braid. She then began to weave it into a braided crown around my head. The Queen’s Flower would be placed throughout the crown. While Jessalynn did that, Lucy sat with me and talked—Susan was in and out trying to prepare.

It seemed Lucy had gotten most of her boy-talk out of the way, and instead she talked about the old days of Narnia. She had been the first of her siblings to discover Narnia and at first, the others didn’t believe her. Upon her coronation she had been granted the domain of the Eastern Sea and she loved sailing aboard a vessel called the _Splendor_ _Hyaline_ to the various islands. I had to admit that I’d never seen the sea. The only places in Narnia that I spent any significant time in were Beaver’s Dam and Highcliff. Though, I do recall a few early summers spent with my mother’s brother, Lord Rhoop, at their familial home of Wellspring Fare.

Jessalynn had just finished applying a bit of cream to the spots beneath my eyes to mask them when we heard heavy boots approaching. A second later there was a tap to the wall outside our cavern and Caspian called out.

“May we enter?”

I looked up at Jessalynn to make sure she was finished. She nodded and began packing away her things. I stood and brushed the bit of dust off my dress before strapping on my sword.

“You may enter,” I replied.

“We came to tell Queen Lucy that—”

Caspian stopped short when he caught sight of me. His foot lingered in mid-air and his mouth hung open. Behind him, Edmund was unaware of his sudden stop and he promptly ran into him.

“Umpf—”

“—ack—”

“—whoa, what’s going on? Why did you stop?”

“S-sorry Edmund, it’s just…Reagan…” Caspian paused as he looked my way again.

Edmund looked over at me as well and I had to fight the warming of my cheeks again. Then he looked down at the ground before taking a step back, so that he wasn’t standing over the threshold of my bed-chambers. I couldn’t fight the smile that wanted to appear then.

“You look just as I’ve always imagined Telessa would look,” Caspian said. Drawing my attention back to him.

“I know. Let us hope the Lords see it that way as well,” I replied. “It was Jessa’s idea.”

“You did great work, lady.” Caspian nodded his head towards Jessalynn and she curtsied.

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“Who’s Telessa?” Lucy asked.

“She is one of our most revered gods,” I replied. “She is the goddess of strength, beauty, and wisdom. She is often depicted with the sword in one hand and the Queen’s Flower in the other. And she is the patron god of the Queen. We will remind the great Lords of Narnia who they are dealing with.”

“The horses are ready. We should make our way to them,” Edmund said, speaking for the first time since entering. I noticed there was a strange formal edge to his tone and I looked at him curiously.

“Wait, if you are going like that, Reagan then you should be announced. We will draw one up. We still have a bit a parchment left,” Caspian said.

“We don’t have time,” Edmund argued.

“No, Caspian is right. To achieve the pomp we’re looking for, we must be announced. Have you any titles you can add, Edmund? It will really throw the lords then.”

Lucy grinned. “He’s got quite a few of them actually.”

“Good, then you can help me draft the announcement,” Caspian said.

“Fine, but we should be quick about this. Meet me at the main exit,” Edmund said to me before he and Caspian left.

Lucy went to follow them, but I reached out to stop her. “Wait, this lion…this Aslan of yours, is He kind to people like us?” I gestured to Jessalynn and myself. “Is He kind to Telmarines, I mean?”

“Well, I hope He isn’t too kind to Miraz, but to you… Yes I believe He will be. At least, I believe He will see what I see: someone who loves Narnia like we do and wants to see her whole again. Why do you ask?” Lucy tilted her head to the side.

“Because I… I would like for Jessa to go with you.”

“What? My Lady, no. My place is at your side,” Jessalynn said.

I turned to her. “And did you, in the three years I was gone, take my father up on his offer to train?”

“Certainly not!” She looked offended that I even asked.

“Then it will be safer for you away from the How. Even if we managed to convince Miraz to do single combat or convince some of the lords to stand down, there will be war. And I…I have already lost one member of my household; I do not wish to lose another.”

Jessalynn’s eyes began to water and her lip trembled with restrained emotion. Then she nodded and curtsied deeply towards me. “As my Lady wishes.”

“You can take Bryne.” I took her hand and squeezed. “And may Venti lend you speed.”

“I promise to keep her safe, Reagan,” Lucy vowed.

“Thank you.” I smiled at her. For a moment I didn’t see a thirteen-year-old girl; I saw a great Queen. Then she threw her arms around me in a hug. I pulled Jessalynn in on it as well.


	8. Parley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edmund and Reagan visit the Telmarine War Camp to address Miraz and the Lords of the Council. Reagan comes face to face with an unexpected attendee.

**Chapter 8**

**Parley**

“I do not like this, Your Majesty,” Glenstorm said with a nervous twitch of his hind leg.

We were deep inside the Telmarine war camp waiting near the council tent. The horses were tethered to a tree. The giant, Wimbleweather, sat against another tree while Glenstorm kept watch; Edmund and I were between the two. General Glozelle stood a little ways off keeping watch of his own. He was far enough away so we could speak softly without being heard.

“I am not surprised by it,” I replied. Glenstorm arched a brow my way but said nothing. I don’t think he liked me much.

“Neither am I,” Edmund said. “I expected as much. Miraz is attempting a weak and feeble show of power by making us wait.”

“That is true,” said Glenstorm. “What I do not like, though, is waiting here where we are surrounded and the soldiers keep looking at us.”

“That’s probably because of me,” I said. “Telessa can both give man courage and strike fear in his heart; it all depends on what side of the battle you are own. Right now, dressed as I am, they are reminded that I am one of her chosen daughters and they begin to question if they are in the right. Plus, they are getting a good look at you and Wimbleweather and wondering just how many Centaurs and Giants they may have to face in battle. If the thought of wronging Telessa does not frighten them, then the later will.”

“So you see, Glenstorm, the waiting will play to our favor,” Edmund added.

This, at least, seemed to appease the Centaur and he resumed his watch. He stood with his torso straight and his broad sword held before him in an intimidating manner that made me shrink away and I knew we were on the same side. I looked at Edmund. Though he didn’t exactly smile, the corner of his mouth did rise a fraction of an inch. His attention was soon drawn elsewhere though and his solemn expression returned.

“So it begins.” He gave a little nod of his head. I turned to see the lords beginning to arrive.

I leaned in towards him. “That is Lord Govlam of Witch’s Bluff. He’s Lady Prunapirsmia’s father. He’s a decent man, despite whatever flaws his daughter has.”

Edmund looked at me and arched a brow. “Flaws?”

I nodded. “She doesn’t like me. If that’s not a character flaw, I’m not sure what is.” The corner of his mouth lifted again and I decided that I rather liked the look on him.

“A grievous error on her part.” The corner lifted higher. Yep! I definitely liked the look on him. “Who are they?” he asked, turning his attention back to the arriving lords.

“Lord Scythley of Rockridge and Lord Gregorie of Battlan. Neither of them will be of any help to us. They are both involved in rather questionable affairs.”

I noticed General Glozelle shift out of the corner of my eye. Edmund noticed the movement too, and we shared a look. Perhaps the General could hear more than we thought he could. This gave me an idea. I took a few steps forward casually; Edmund followed suit without question.

“There is Lord Booda of Owlwood, though he hasn’t always been. Its former resident was Lord Uvilas but he was fatally wounded in a hunting accident about…” I paused a moment as though deep concentration. “How long has it been, General Glozelle, since Lord Uvilas died?”

There was a stretch of silence in which I prayed this would work. Then, just when I didn’t think he’d respond, the General turned his head partially towards us.

“Four years,” was all he said.

“Oh. That’s right. It wasn’t long after His Majesty passed—may he find rest in the life beyond,” I ended prayerfully. “Miraz was among those in the hunting party, wasn’t he, General?”

There was another stretch of silence. “No. His Majesty,” he said pointedly, “wasn’t able to attend.”

“Oh, but Booda was there in his stead and he discovered the body if memory serves.”

The General did not respond, but I knew I was correct. My training had included detailed coverage of the Lords of the council, both their rise and, when relevant, their fall. The whole ordeal was rather suspect; Uvilas was known as a very skilled hunter.

“Look, next comes the good brothers Lords Reltaz and Soltaz; they were good friends of my father.”

As the two lords passed by, they looked at Glenstrom and Wimbleweather warily. But when they saw me they both smiled and bowed their heads. “My Lady,” they greeted.

I returned their greeting with an appreciative nod of my own. Then I whispered utter nonsense to Edmund in the sight of Glozelle.

“Speaking of brothers, Lord Migus there assumed Castle Shribble after the three Passarid brothers led a league of men north to face the giants. The brothers were close kin to Queen Reanna, Caspain’s mother—may she find rest in the life beyond.” Edmund and I both noticed the General tense at the mention of the late Queen. “I’m not entirely sure what they did, the whole mission was kept rather quiet, but it must have worked because the Giants never bothered us after that. However, the brother’s bones were found a month after the siege.” I finished with a slight grimace. The tale of the Passarid brothers was one of a gruesome warning.

“Giants don’ leave bones,” said a booming voice. I flinched and looked at Wimbleweather. “We eats it all,” he continued. “Bones is best part. Bones is crunchy.”

I swallowed uncontrollably. The disgust was spreading over my face and twisting in my stomach. Edmund, however, laughed.

“And for that, We are glad you are on Our side, Friend Wimbleweather.”

The Giant grinned. I turned to Edmund and mouthed, _‘was he joking?’_ but Edmund didn’t respond. I did my best to shake off my discomfort as I continued to point out the lords as they passed and provide Edmund with a little insight into each one. Lords Donnon and Montoya came by and they, like Reltaz and Soltaz, nodded a greeting my way—Montoya more so than Donnon. Then there was Bectuz, another recently named lord. Bectuz usually liked to keep to himself so I didn’t have much insight to offer Edmund. However, I did know that he came to power after Plainfield’s previous resident died rather unexpectedly. Lord Sopespian came by last and even from a distance his smile made my skin crawl.

“There are seven other lords, but they sailed east about five years ago and haven’t returned yet,” I said after Sopespian had entered. “Miraz would likely retain his seat even as King, and the last seat on the council was held by my father, but…”

“Reagan!”

My heart stopped at the sound of a voice I’d heard a thousand times in my sleep. A dream. I knew it was a dream or perhaps nightmare was a more fitting description. My father was dead; it was pointless to hope for otherwise, and yet, at the sound of his voice I couldn’t help it. I turned to face the approaching lord.

There stood a man with my father’s voice and my father’s face, but he wasn’t my father. All at once the ache of losing him washed over me again. I dug my nails into my palms to keep from falling to my knees in tears. Edmund sensed my unease, but was uncertain as to the exact cause of it. He looked to Glenstorm and Wimbleweather in silent caution and I knew they were all preparing to strike. I placed a hand lightly on his wrist and forced a smile on my face.

“Lord Carryk,” I greeted with a tremor in my voice. I held my hands out in queenly fashion—crossed at the wrists. He paused in his approach, thrown by the formal address. He glanced at Glenstorm and Wimbleweather warily; there was even apprehension in his eyes when he looked at Edmund. When he glanced at General Glozelle keeping watch however, he seemed to make up his mind.

Lord Carryk bowed before me before kissing the back of my hand. “My Lady, it is good to see you well.”

I, in proper fashion, returned the kiss to his hand. “It is good to see you also.” I felt my voice wanting to shake still and I fought against it. For a moment we stood there holding hands. Neither of us wanting to give voice to the pain that was lingering just beneath the surface.

“Allow me to make known my companions,” I said. I gestured to my right. “This is Wimbleweather of Deadman’s Hill in the north of Narnia.”

“Sir,” Lord Carryk nodded his head to Wimbleweather and the Giant nodded back with a toothy grin. For half a moment I could have sworn I saw a bone in his teeth.

“To our left is Glenstorm; he is the General of our army and a fierce warrior as any can see.”

Again, Lord Carryk nodded his getting. Glenstorm gave only a curt nod in return before resuming his unblinking watch.

“And then we have His Majesty King Edmund of Narnia from the Old Tales.”

“The old tales? But they are a myth.”

“And yet here we are, my Lord,” Edmund replied.

Lord Carryk looked at me, and I knew he was questioning my stance. I took a step back to stand next to Edmund making my stance undoubtedly clear. Lord Carryk nodded.

“Forgive my impertinence, Your Majesty.” Lord Carryk bowed to Edmund.

“For those who earnestly seek it, repentance and forgiveness shall be granted,” Edmund replied regally.

“King Edmund,” I began. “This is Lord Carryk…of Highcliff.”

If Edmund was surprised he didn’t show it then. “It is a pleasure to meet you, my Lord.”

“The pleasure is mine, Your Majesty.”

“Lord Carryk, the council is waiting for you,” General Glozelle said gruffly.

“Of course, General; I’ll be right in.” Lord Carryk nodded and bowed to Edmund again before taking my hands once more and kissing them both. “My Lady.” He leaned in and whispered. “I am glad to see you safe, Reagan.”

There was a moment of silence after Lord Carryk left. Then Edmund asked, “Your father’s brother?”

I nodded and pinched my eyes shut. “I forgot how much they looked and sounded alike. I should have known he’d be here. But I…” I pinched my eyes tighter.

“It’s all right; I can go in alone. You can stay here with Glenstorm and Wimble.”

I opened my eyes in time to see Miraz enter the tent with a smug and confident look on his face. I was fueled by a burst of rage and anger.

“And let Jessa’s hard work go to waste? I think not.”

Edmund grinned.

“General Glozelle,” I called more confidently than I felt. “You will announce us.”

He looked at me like I was nothing but a silly child. “I will not.”

“Who do you serve, General? Your Lord, or your King and Queen?” I emphasized the word ‘queen.’ I could see him waiver as he thought of the late Queen again, until finally he took the parchment from Edmund and proceeded us into the tent. Miraz, of course, sat at the center of a u-shaped table while the lords filled in around him.

“Your Majesty King Miraz, first of his name, and Lords of the Council,” the General began. “Presenting, His Majesty King Edmund the Just, Duke of Lantern Waste, Count of the Western March, Knight of the Order of the Table, and some time known as Wand-breaker…” The General paused to take a breath. “And Her Grace Lady Reagan the Ibex of Highcliff, Fox of Wellspring Fare, Blessed Daughter of Telessa, and Mother Apparent.”

I caught my Uncle’s smile out of the corner of my eye as the General took his stance behind us at the tent’s entrance.

“Thank you, General,” Edmund said, his eyes never leaving Miraz. “We have a message from my Brother the High King of Narnia.” Edmund then referred to his own roll of parchment.

It began with Peter’s long list of titles, which were as extensive as Edmund’s and a few not-so-friendely ones for Miraz. I could see a few of the lords shift slightly in their seats and cast their eyes toward the center. Miraz, however, did not flinch. Edmund read the challenge in an almost bored manner and without any flourish. It made his appearance, and thereby his brother’s, all the more intimidating.

“For the second half of our message, I give the floor to Her Grace.”

“Thank you, King Edmund,” I said. Edmund bowed his head and took a step back. “I address the Noble Lords of Narnia. Ye, who have served the Crown faithfully, His Majesty King Caspian, tenth of his name, acknowledges what troubled times these are. He understands the lies and rumors you have heard and he does not fault you for taking action against them.”

As I spoke, I met each lord with a smile akin to that of a Mother’s trying to guilt her child into doing the right thing or face the dire consequences. A few of the lords looked uneasily towards each other, and a few looked contemplative. Miraz, however, still remained unfazed

“But now the time has come where you must decide to stand with the Crown and His Majesty, or to lie with the usurper. To any Lord who chooses the former and lays down arms he and his company shall be granted full amnesty. And to those who choose the latter, the Gods will judge thee according to thy will.”

“Amnesty!” Miraz laughed.

I turned my attention to him at last. “It means a pardon,” I said as though explaining it to a child.

“I know what it means,” he snarled as a lord snickered—I couldn’t tell who. This only seemed to upset him more.

“Why should we listen to the daughter of a traitor?” Lord Booda asked. Miraz grinned.

“Lord Booda, my father died in service of the True King of Narnia. There can be no death more honorable than that.” I said the words with such conviction I was reminded of the overwhelming relief I felt when Edmund first said them to me.

“Tell me, Prince Edmund,” Miraz began, seemingly choosing to ignore me.

“King,” Edmund corrected him quickly.

“Pardon me?”

“It’s _King_ Edmund. You would do well to remember that,” Edmund said. “It’s just king though. Peter’s the High King. Caspian is a King as well…I know; it’s confusing.”

“But the brightest of us will catch on easily,” I said.

Miraz wasn’t amused. “Why would we risk such a proposal when our armies could wipe you out by nightfall?”

“Haven’t you already underestimated our numbers? A week ago, Narnians were extinct,” Edmund pointed out.

“A week? I can nearly guarantee that until they marched onto the field and saw for themselves, there were still men who believed Narnians were extinct this morning,” I said. I could read it in the faces of the lords; they knew I was right.

“And so you will be extinct again. All of you, and your homes shall be burned to the ground.” Miraz replied.

I knew Miraz’s words were no mere threat. He would do just as he said even if it meant burning the forests. As for my own home, it was likely already nothing more than a pile of ash. That thought, the thought that all my things—all my father’s things—were gone, destroyed irreparably, hit hard. Once more the sense of loss began to seep in.

Edmund, however, seemed as unfazed as Miraz had been. How could he remain so cool when his country was being threatened? What assurances did he have that I didn’t? “Then you should have little to fear,” he said.

Miraz laughed dryly. “This isn’t a question of bravery.”

Edmund grinned. “So you’re bravely refusing to fight a swordsman half your age?”

The silence spoke volumes.

“I didn’t say I refused,” Miraz said between his teeth.

“You shall have our support, Your Majesty. Whatever you decide,” Lord Gregorie said.

“Sire,” Lord Sopespian began. “Our military advantage alone provides the perfect excuse to avoid—”

“—I’m not avoiding anything!” Miraz jumped to his feet and reached for his sword.

I looked sideways at Edmund, but his attention remained focused on Miraz. What was going on here?

“I was merely pointing out that my Lord is well within his rights to refuse,” Sopespian said with a false quiver.

“His Majesty would never refuse,” General Glozelle said. “He relishes the chance to show the people the courage of their new King.”

Miraz looked beyond us to the General. I read the look in his eyes as easily as I read it in the Lords around him. Miraz knew he was being set up by his council but to refuse single combat would have presented as cowardice. He had no choice but to accept and he did so bitterly.

“You…” Miraz pointed his sword at Edmund. “You should hope your brother’s sword is sharper than his pen. And as for you…” He turned his sword and his anger to me. “You shall join your father soon enough in his traitorous grave.”


	9. Belief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edmund and Reagan return to the How after the parley meeting, and Caspian picks up hints of something between his betrothed and a King of Old.

**Chapter 9**

**Belief**

Miraz left in a hurry. I turned to look at Edmund, but he was already heading to the horses. I rushed to catch up.

“Reagan, wait!” My uncle met me at Brenah. “Does the offer still stand? Even with Miraz’s agreement?”

I looked beyond him at the other Lords; a few of them were grouping together and conversing in hushed whispers. “Yes. I think you and I both know there may yet be a war. If it comes to it, barricade your men.”

He nodded gravely. “I will inform the others. And Reagan…” He paused as he took my hand in both of his. I could feel the tremble in his voice as he spoke. “We were all deeply grieved when we heard of your father.”

I swallowed the pain rising in my chest.

“Do you truly believe his was an honorable one?”

I looked over at Edmund. His back was to me as he stood with Glenstorm. Though he wasn’t speaking, I could still hear Edmund’s voice loud and clear in my head; I could hear the promise in his words.

_“Your father died with a clear conscience, free of sin, and pardoned of all wrong…”_

“Did you know I was with him?” I asked, turning back to my uncle.

“What?”

“I was with Father when he died. He…He didn’t want to fight them, but he did so that I could escape Beaver’s Dam. The soldiers were already on their way to our apartment; I think they were coming for me. Father died protecting me and the future of this country. So, yes, I do believe his death was an honorable one. He will find rest in the life beyond.”

My uncle squeezed my hand and bowed his head. “Gods be blessed.”

“Gods be blessed,” I repeated.

“The gods go with you, Reagan; I can see it.”

“Thanks.” Brenah began to grow antsy and she whinnied. I tried to soothe her by rubbing her neck. “Gentle now, love. Gentle.” She calmed under my reassurance. “Uncle, I am sorry for the way I left Highcliff. I shouldn’t have worried you or Aunt Marta like that.”

My uncle nodded but smiled. “Morvyn sent us a raven; we knew you were safe, but Malin was disappointed.”

“Then I shall have to make it up to him when this is over. Perhaps a few rounds of pareteball will suffice.”

“He would like that.” My uncle laughed softly. “Now, go; your companions are waiting on you.”

The ride back to the How was a silent one. Edmund set the pace riding up front alone while Glenstorm and Wimbleweather rode (or rather walked) on either side of me. No one spoke. I was caught up in my conversation with my uncle.

At first, the conversation filled me with hope and happiness. I truly believed that when this was over there could be a return to normalcy; I could play a few rounds with my cousin—the same cousin who annoyed me when I felt trapped at Highcliff, but now that I had been away from him I realized that I missed his infectious laugh and his playful attitude. Upon further inspection, however, I felt a plaguing doubt beneath the surface that reminded me there might not be a “when this is over” for either myself or my uncle. The latter thought had me feeling rather glum when we arrived at the How.

Caspian and Peter were both waiting for us in the entrance cavern.

“Did he accept?” Caspian asked before either Edmund or I could completely dismount.

“Yes,” Edmund replied. We both handed over our reins to a Faun who led our horses away. “The challenge begins in an hour,” Edmund said to Peter.

“Good.” Peter nodded. “And how many will lay down arms?”

It took a second or two for me to realize that Peter was speaking to me now, and when I did, I wasn’t sure how to respond.

“I—I don’t know,” I said.

Peter didn’t arch a brow so much as he simply raised it.

“Your Majesty,” I added quickly. “But I—I believe Highcliff will.”

“You believe? We need more than your belief.”

“They couldn’t exactly answer her while in the presence of Miraz, Pete,” Edmund said defensively on my behalf. “He would have had them killed in their sleep and replaced by dawn. They all know what he’s capable of, and if they don’t know, then they highly suspect. Lord Carryk was the bravest among them for speaking to her as much as he did.”

“Carryk was there?” Caspian asked.

I nodded. “As Lord of Highcliff. It makes sense; I should have foreseen it.”

“Grief makes us blind to many things. You handled yourself well, especially for your first parley meeting,” Edmund said, looking at me kindly. I saw Caspian’s brow lift slightly.

“What’s the significance of Carryk and Highcliff? Do they provide a strategic advantage?” Peter asked.

“Not really,” I said. “Highcliff is rather small in comparison to the other estates. It’s stationed at the foot of the mountains beyond the Western Wood. It mines ore for weapons and armor, but after a cave-in twenty years ago, two of the mines are no longer functional. Witch’s Bluff is now the primary provider for ore.”

“But Carryk is the brother of Lord Morvyn, Reagan’s father; he’s her uncle,” Caspian added.

“Its significance is more personal than strategic,” Edmund said.

“I see,” said Peter, sounding neither kind nor cruel.

“You should begin preparing for combat, Peter.”

“You are right, Brother,” Peter said with a sigh. “Will you assist me?” Edmund nodded and they left together, but not before Edmund looked my way one last time.

I watched Edmund leave until he turned the corner and I could watch no more. My stomach felt a flutter with the little smile he had given me before leaving. There was something about him that I hadn’t seen or felt from any other boy before, but I couldn’t put a name to it.

When I looked back at Caspian, I found a familiar look on his face. His eyes held a glow and his lip was raised in one corner. It was a look I usually saw when we were sparing and he performed a particularly effective move that relieved me of my sword. It was a look I wasn’t very fond of.

“What?” I asked defensively, cocking my head to the side.

“Nothing,” Caspian replied. The look grew more defined.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “If you have something to say, Caspian then say it.”

“So, you and King Edmund then?” He almost laughed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He really did laugh that time.

“You’re being ridiculous, Caspian. I would never do that to you or to us.”

“You have two years before you and I become an ‘Us.’”

“Oh? Am I to understand then, that you have been talking to Kavena in my absence?”

“I…What? No. I… I wouldn’t do that to you.” He looked flustered and his cheeks tinted red as he tried to avoid eye contact. He coughed and cleared his throat in an obvious attempt to change the subject quickly. “How are you faring?”

I shrugged a shoulder, letting the matter go. “Alright, I guess. It depends on the hour, sometimes the minute. Today, for example, I was fine until I saw my Uncle Carryk and then afterward, I was fine again until I had to leave him.”

Caspian nodded but said nothing. Four years after his father’s death and he still found it difficult to talk about him. I didn’t much feel like talking about my father’s death either, so I took the time to look around the cavern. Everyone was preparing for war in their own ways.

Reepicheep was inspecting his troupe of Mice. Dwarves were hammering away making breastplates for the army. The Fauns were sharpening swords, spears, and arrows, while Centaurs were brewing something rather potent in the far corner; my nose couldn’t detect if it was medicinal or otherwise. And the Talking Beasts appeared to be grooming themselves and those of their kind by sharpening their claws on the hard rock and taming stray hairs.

“How did you adjust to the Narnians so quickly?” I asked Caspian. “I still feel a tinge of fear run through me when I see the massive Centaurs or the Minotaurs with their sharp horns. I’m still thrown when I hear a large Cat talk. How do you do it so easily?”

“Honestly? I—I’ve been looking forward to this my whole life,” he replied. “Nurse first told me stories of Old Narnia when I was little. And when I began my studies with Dr. Cornelius, he continued the lessons in private. He was half-Dwarf you know.”

“Wait, what? The Professor was half-Dwarf?”

Caspian nodded and smiled. “I never told anyone of his lineage or our secret lessons. I couldn’t.”

“Of course not. The stories are forbidden.”

“But I always hoped that one day I could meet the Narnians. I never imagined there was this many left though. When the war is over, Reagan together you and I can unite the Narnians and the Telmarines into one people, as it should always have been.”

“And what of the others? What of Edmund and his siblings? What will they do when the war is over?”

Caspian smirked in a way I didn’t like. I had unintentionally brought up Edmund again. It seemed he was consuming more of my thoughts than even I realized.

“Oh, shut it, Caspian. I don’t want to hear it from you.”

Caspian was about to comment when a bird swooped in through the entrance squawking loudly. He landed near us. It was a raven, but a raven larger than any I’d ever seen.

“Pardon the intrusion, Your Majesty,” the Raven said with breathless a bow. “But Telmarine riders were just seen leaving the camp. They were heading in the same direction as the Queens.”

“How many did you see?” Caspian asked.

“At least half-a-dozen, Sire.”

Caspian looked at me.

“Go,” I said. “You’re the faster rider. Take Brenah. I will inform Edmund and Peter. And, Caspian, hurry back!” I shouted the last part at his retreating figure.

I found Edmund and Peter with the help of Reepicheep and his Mice again. They were in the King’s Cavern which, as it turns out, was only a tunnel away from the Queen’s. I thanked the Mice and rapped on the outside wall.

“You may enter. Umph. It’s a little tight, Ed.”

“You want it tight, Peter.”

“I also need to be able to move.”

I stepped around the corner to find Edmund adjusting Peter’s right pauldron. Their cavern was similar to the queen’s in shape and size, but since there were only three of them there was more space between the bedrolls. I easily spotted Caspian’s bedroll—I should have known something was off the moment I stepped into his bed-chamber simply because it had been so neat. One of the other rolls wasn’t much better, but the third stood apart for its tidiness. I instantly felt a sense of kinship for whoever slept in that bedroll.

“Lady Reagan, how can we assist you?” Peter asked. It was the friendliest tone Peter had ever used towards me. Edmund shot him a glare and tightened something a little too much if Peter’s grimace was any indication. I wasn’t sure what to make of the exchange, so I ignored it.

“I—I thought you’d both want to know, a few riders were seen heading in the same direction as your sisters.”

For the first time, Edmund looked my way before sharing a look with his brother.

“Caspian has ridden after them to assist if need be, and I have said a prayer to Venti for his speed and to Telessa for her courage.”

“Thank you,” Peter said. “And with any fortune, Aslan will be with them soon.”

Edmund finished adjusting Peter’s armor and gave it a thorough look over before nodding.

“Thank you, Ed. That should do.” There was a brief silence in which Peter looked at his brother who was trying to avoid looking at me again. “Well, I’m going to go confer with Glenstorm about any adjustments to the plan that may be needed.”

“Peter, don’t...” Edmund tried to stop his brother from leaving but there was no stopping to be had. Peter gave a slight nod in my direction on his way out.

Edmund and I were alone again. We were on opposite sides of the room, but alone all the same. The last time we were alone I had ended up crying in his arms. Though I didn’t particularly feel like crying at the moment, there was a part of me that felt like it wouldn’t have minded being in his arms again. When I looked his way, however, I got a strange feeling that he didn’t want me there.

“I…I should go.” I turned to find my way back to the central cavern.

“Reagan, wait!”

I turned back around. Edmund had taken several quick steps towards the entrance and we now stood only a bedroll apart. We were both surprised by how close that put us.

“You—you don’t have to leave. You—you can come in…if you’d like,” he stammered slightly.

I looked around the cavern. My eyes unwittingly fell to one of the bedrolls. The roll was wrinkled and the blanket askew. Next to it there was a wadded pile of clothes which included the blue tunic that Edmund had worn the night he broke into my chamber in Beaver’s Dam. Of course, his bedroll would be the messy one. My thoughts began to drift to why his bedroll was so wrinkled before I snapped my eyes back up to meet Edmund’s. He was smirking.

“So not only do you break into girls bed-chambers in the dark of night, but you also invite girls you hardly know into your bed-chamber?” I said with a challenging lift of my chin.

His smirk deepened and something inside me stirred. “Only the lucky ones.”

I swallowed. Mother would surely not approve, but I found myself _wanting_ to enter the cavern. My blood began to race, my breaths grew shallow, and I could feel my cheeks turning warm.

Edmund laughed, but not in a cruel way. “I—I am sorry. I didn’t mean to cause you such distress.” He bowed his head and tamed his features into something more honorable. “Forgive me, my Lady. I would never wish to cast stain upon your honor.”

_Never?_ Thank the gods I didn’t’ say that out loud. I put aside my (disappointment?) and shrugged as if it didn’t matter to me.

“For those who earnestly seek it, repentance and forgiveness shall be granted,” I repeated his words back to him. He looked up and smiled a truly wondrous smile that turned my stomach to jelly and made my heart beat like the wings of Venti.

“Perhaps we could walk to the central cavern together then, and talk along the way. Would that suit your honor?”

I pretended to think about it for a moment before nodding. “I think that would be suitable.”

He smiled again before retrieving his sword from beside his bedroll. Together, we made our way through the winding maze with no hurry and talked with ease and many smiles.


	10. Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and Miraz duel for the sake of their Kingdoms.

**Chapter 10**

**Blood**

“Are you ready?” Edmund asked in a near whisper.

We were sitting together in the central cavern where we’d spent the last twenty minutes trying not to think of the upcoming duel. There was a pulse that echoed throughout the room bouncing off the earthen floor, ricocheting off the stone walls, and vibrating inside each Narnian. They all seemed to rise as one and take their place. Edmund looked at me.

“Is anyone truly ready for war?” I asked.

“I think Reepicheep is the only one I know who was born ready for it.”

We both looked to where the noble Mouse was leading his loyal followers to the entrance. When he saw us looking, he bowed graciously. Edmund and I shared a small smile.

“If you are uncomfortable going out there, you can stay here,” Edmund suggested when I still hadn’t risen. “It might be safer for you here.” His look changed to something that vaguely reminded me of the way my father used to look when my mother went out riding with Queen Reanna.

“Telessa would not run from a battle,” I said. “And neither shall I.”

Whatever worries he may (or may not) have had about me going to the field vanished in an instant. He seemed rather pleased that I had decided to brave it. He smiled and helped me to my feet. We met Peter just inside the entrance where he stood with his helmet and sword in hand.

I began to pray as we waited for everyone else to exit. “Venti, we pray you lend us speed for our horses and swiftness for our blades. Telessa, by your grace, strengthen our shields and fortify our courage. Kidul, grant life for our friends. And to Alambil and Tarva we ask if we should fall today that you will permit us entrance to the High Heavens where we may dine with thee.”

Peter and Edmund were both looking at me rather intently. I could feel their eyes boring into the side of my face as I spoke. I paused and looked over at them.

“And my Aslan watch over us all,” I added. Edmund nodded and smiled faintly. “Gods be blessed,” I finished and turned my gaze forward.

Peter stepped forward to walk slightly ahead of us. Edmund and I flanked him, each of us carrying his sword and helmet. As we made our way up the ramp the Narnians cheered and raised their weapons in the air. Their cheers were loud, but across the field, I could still hear the roar of the Telmarine army without even seeing them.

My heart hammered a steady but fierce beat in my chest. Each step we took led us closer to the field of battle. As we came over the incline, I could see the gleaming armor of the Telmarines stretch across the field. The flags of each of the great estates waved through the air. To my far left near the forest’s edge, I found the flag of Highcliff: a white ibex atop a cliff on a sea of deep blue.

Miraz and his marshals were already at the ruin site when we arrived, as were Glenstorm and one of the Bulgy Bears. Peter reached for his helmet from me first.

“Keep him moving,” I said. “This armor is much lighter than the Telmarine armor; he’ll tire quickly.”

Peter nodded his thanks and then turned to take his sword from Edmund.

“You can do this, Pete. It’s just like the ones we held in our day.”

Peter said nothing as he drew his sword from its sheath, but the look he shared with Edmund was one of fierce intimacy. I had to look away.

I turned my eyes to Miraz and his men. He had General Glozelle and lords Sopespian and Gregorie with him. Glozelle held a crossbow in his hands. Miraz spoke to his marshals but his words were too soft to decipher from where I stood. Then Miraz slipped on his golden helmet and grabbed his sword and shield. Peter stepped forward to meet him in the center.

“There’s still time to surrender,” Miraz said. I could barely make out his words as he and Peter circled one another.

“Well feel free.”

“How many more must die for the throne?”

“Just. One.” Peter closed the visor of his helmet, and, with a battle cry, he kicked off a nearby pillar and came down on Miraz with a heavy blow.

The duel had begun.

It was a fast-paced duel and difficult to keep track of. Their swords clashed; their shields bashed, and the roar of the armies on either side was deafening. My stomach churned violently as I watched. I had seen men duel before, but it was only a sparing then, something to showcase their prowess to the watching women. This duel was something entirely different. Miraz and Peter sought to kill.

I glanced sideways at Edmund. He was smiling faintly until Peter lost his helmet. Peter leaned back to avoid the next swing that would have lopped off his head. He ducked low and with an upward slash, he sliced Miraz across the thigh. Miraz yelled in agony and stumbled backward.

There was a brief pause before Miraz rushed back in.

The duel resumed at the same fast pace as before. There were dancing blows here and there. I couldn’t see how it happened exactly, but Peter went down. He lay on his back, his arm outstretched. Miraz stomped down on Peter’s shield and Peter cried out in pain. He swiped at Miraz’s legs but Miraz jumped out of the way. So, Peter rolled into Miraz’s legs and knocked him off balance. They both rose to their feet, their exhaustion obvious in the rapid rise and fall of their shoulders.

“Something’s wrong,” Edmund whispered.

“What do you mean?”

“Peter’s not holding his shield properly. I think that stomp dislocated his arm.”

I looked back at the dueling center. If Peter was down an arm, what were his chances of winning now?

A horse whinnied in the distance. I knew that whinny. I looked over my shoulder. Brenah was back with Caspian and Susan.

“They’re calling for a respite. Come on,” Edmund said, drawing my attention back to Peter. Edmund moved forward to collect Peter’s discarded helmet. I saw that Peter was practically dragging his shield, so I hurried forward to help him with it.

“Thanks,” he whispered with a grimace as I loosened the straps and took the weight off his arm.

“You’re welcome.”

Peter then turned his attention to Susan and Caspian as they joined us. “Lucy?”

“And Jessa?” I added before Susan could answer.

“They’re safe. They made it through, with a little help.” Susan glanced at Caspian.

“Thanks,” Peter said again. (I’d heard more thanks from Peter in the last hour than I had in my entire duration at the How.) Caspian nodded his reply.

“You might want to head up with the archers, Susan. I don’t expect Miraz and his men will keep their word,” Peter continued.

“Alright.” Susan nodded.

She hesitated before leaving though. She appeared to be considering her next actions thoroughly. She threw caution aside as she stepped forward and hugged Peter. I could hear his hiss of pain, but he returned her hug all the same. Beyond them, I could see the Narnians looking anxious and alarmed.

Edmund noticed it too and he beat me to saying something. “Keep smiling.”

As Susan turned to make her way up to the archers, Peter held up his sword. The Narnians cheered.

“All right now, let’s have a look at that arm,” Edmund said.

“It’s dislocated,” Peter confirmed as he sat on a large rock.

While Edmund tended to his brother, I turned to Caspian. “Did you see Him? The Lion? Is He going to help us?”

“No, I didn’t see Him. By the time I arrived, Jessalynn and Lucy had already left. Susan stood alone battling the riders.”

“Oh.” I can’t deny I was a little disappointed. We needed help. Behind me, I heard a pop, and Peter cried out; Edmund had re-set his arm.

“But Aslan will help us, Reagan,” Caspian continued. “How are things here?”

“He’s a really good fighter actually. He has Miraz beat on speed and stamina, but…”

“My uncle is a skilled fighter as well and he is stronger,” Caspian finished. I nodded my head.

“It’s time,” Peter said over us.

I looked up to see Miraz approaching the center again; a strip of cloth had been tied around his leg. Peter took up his shield once more but he denied his helmet. Miraz left his helmet behind as well.

Peter and Miraz charged at each other from the start, and the hits were too fast and too numerous to count. Peter lost his shield early on and had to use his injured arm to wield off Miraz’s attacks. They didn’t limit themselves to using only their swords, however; they kicked at each other, punched or elbowed each other, and even head-butted once or twice. They both also made full use of the surrounding terrain as they each tried—and succeeded—to throw the other into the stone pillars.

The worst bit came when Peter lost his sword as well. For a moment he was trapped; Miraz was standing over him and I knew it was over. Peter was worried about the Telmarines not keeping their word if Miraz should fall, but would the Narnians keep their word if Peter fell? I felt sick to my stomach; I knew what awaited me if the Telmarines won.

An agonizing cry distracted me from my thoughts. Miraz was clutching his wounded leg and stumbling backward. Peter stood over him now, fist balled and poised for attack. Miraz dropped his sword and fell to his knees.

“Respite! Respite!” Miraz cried.

Peter paused.

“What’s he waiting for?” Caspian asked.

“Miraz called for a respite. Peter is honor-bound to oblige; the Lion’s Code dictate’s it,” Edmund replied.

Miraz was bound to no such code and he held no honor. While Peter turned to make his way over to us, Miraz took up his sword and charged at Peter’s back.

“Behind you!”

“Look out!” Edmund and I yelled at the same time.

In one seamless and seemingly effortless move, Peter spun on his heel, blocked Miraz’s attack with one hand while simultaneously stealing his sword with the other, spun again to reposition himself and the sword, and used Miraz’s sword against him by sliding the blade up under his armor and into his armpit. Miraz gasped and clutched at the new would, his eyes full of shock and fear; he fell to both knees. The Narnians were cheering behind us while Peter stood ready to make the final blow, but he refrained from doing so.

Even in his dying moments, Miraz felt the need to taunt his opponent. “What’s the matter, boy? Too cowardly to take a life?”

“It’s not mine to take,” Peter replied.

“What?” I whispered to myself.

I looked at Edmund on my right for answers. He shrugged and shook his head; so this was not something he had discussed with Peter beforehand. I turned to Caspian next, but Caspian kept his focus on Peter and his uncle. I turned my attention back to the two kings just as Peter slowly turned to face us, or rather Caspian. When Peter held out the sword towards Caspian, the horror of what he meant hit me almost as hard as my fall from Brenah had.

“What?” I said again, this time a little louder. “No.”

Caspian couldn’t be the one to do this. It was one thing for Miraz to fall in combat against Peter or Edmund or anybody else for that matter. It was quite another thing for Caspian to do it himself. Surely Caspian realized this as much as I did. Surely he knew he couldn’t be the one to end his uncle’s life.

Caspian, however, didn’t seem to know this. He moved forward to accept the sword from Peter.

“No!” I jumped in front of Caspian and placed a hand on his chest to stop him. “Caspian, stop, think this through.”

“Move aside, Reagan.” He removed my hand from his chest and tried to step around me, but I jumped back in front of him.

“No. Caspian, I’m asking you to stop and think. When have I ever done the same? So, please, hear me out.” Caspian said nothing so I continued. “I know you want revenge; you have every right to. He killed your father and he as well as killed mine too, so I know how you feel.”

Tears stung at my eyes but I pushed them back. “But he is still your uncle; he is your blood. If you take the life of your blood, then how does that make you any better than he? What sort of Narnia do you wish to rule? One that pits brother against brother? Uncle against nephew? Or one which unites our two peoples into one great nation? Where peace—true peace—thrives for all. Where one no longer has to live in shadow or fear. Where light can reign.”

Silence. My little speech was met with a cold hard silence that offered no hope of warmth. Caspian’s jaw remained firm, his eyes fierce and hollow. I’d never seen that look on him before, and I didn’t like it in the least. He forcefully removed my hand from his chest again.

“Step aside, Lady Reagan.”

The last time he addressed me by my title in such a manner, we were only children; we hardly knew each other. When he stepped around me this time, I didn’t try to stop him. My heart beat in my chest. The corset around my waist grew tighter, and my eyes burned with the effort of holding back tears.

My eyes lifted from the ground where they had fallen and they landed first on the mighty Centaur Glenstorm. His eyes were trained on me, a curious stare in them. I looked towards Edmund. He was also looking at me, his brow furrowed but his expression unreadable. Though I didn’t want to watch, I turned to look at the Telmarine lords behind me; they were all staring at me as well. Sopespian had a vile smirk on his lips. Gregorie’s lips remained flat—I don’t think I’ve ever seen a smile or a frown on his face. General Glozelle, however, his look was quite different. He looked curious, contemplative, and conscientious of his past actions.

I couldn’t see Miraz’s face as Caspian’s body blocked him, but I could hear his last words.

“Perhaps I was wrong? Perhaps you do have the makings of a Telmarine King after all.”

Caspian raised the sword above his head, and with a fierce and anguished cry, he brought the tip of it sharply down. I closed my eyes against the noise of a loud twang and a sudden thump.


	11. Barricade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reagan finds herself overwhelmed as the battle for Narnia rages on.

**Chapter 11**

**Barricade**

“Open your eyes, Reagan.”

I shook my head.

“Open them,” Peter whispered again in my ear.

I reluctantly did as requested. I didn’t want to see the pool of blood or the empty eyes staring back at me. I didn’t want to see my best friend who was now burdened for life with the knowledge of what he’d done. I didn’t want to see my future in which I stood by a man who killed his own uncle.

And I didn’t.

I didn’t see any other that. No lifeless eyes. No pool of blood, not even a drop of it.

“Not one like you,” Caspian said faintly. “You can keep your life, but we are giving the Narnians back their kingdom.”

Caspian turned and stepped away, revealing his uncle—his very much alive uncle—still kneeling on the ground. The sword was sticking in a patch of grass. Caspian came towards me, his eyes regaining some of the light they had lost. My eyes slowly followed him until he stood before me.

“You…” I was speechless. “You never intended to…did you?”

“I did think about it, but wiser words prevailed.” He leaned towards me a little. “Thank you, Reagan.”

I nodded dumbly, still puzzled and confused as to what just happened. Caspian placed his hand on the back of my shoulder and gently steered me towards Brenah.

“Come; let’s go inside.”

The Narnians were cheering. Their shouts of ‘Hurrah’ and ‘Caspian’ rang through the air while their arms and weapons danced above their heads. I was beginning to feel that excitement and joy too. We’d done it. We’d defeated Miraz and avoided a large-scale war.

“Treachery! Treachery!” A cry resounded over the Narnians’ praise. The cheering immediately died out.

Caspian and I looked at each other in confusion before looking behind us at the ruin. Miraz lay face down with a red-tipped arrow in his back. Sopespian was retreating from the body and shouting.

“Treachery! They murdered our King! They shot him!”

I, of course, knew this wasn’t true. Sopespian had somehow staged Miraz’s death. But it didn’t matter what I knew; it only mattered what the Telmarines would believe.

“To arms! To arms and war!” Sopespian shouted while he rode back to his line.

Meanwhile, Gregorie charged at Peter and Edmund. Peter didn’t hesitate in striking him down. I looked back at Caspian. Neither of us spoke; we knew what had to be done. I mounted Brenah and rode into the How where a platoon of Narnians stood waiting.

“Lady Reagan, what’s happened out there?” one of the Foxes asked.

I looked over the crowd of Narnians. There were Centaurs, Giants, Minotaurs, and all manner of four-legged Beasts. They were all eager for an answer, and they were all looking for me to lead them.

“King Peter defeated Miraz in combat but spared his life. The Telmarines, however, chose to murder their lord and framed one of our archers. They have proclaimed treachery. Prepare your arms; we ride for war.”

There was a stony solemn silence. The thing we’d all hoped to avoid was upon us. I looked around the cavern again. I knew some of them wouldn’t survive the day, but in their eyes, I saw that none of them regretted their decision to join Caspian.

“Then we ride for war,” one of the Centaurs said—I think her name was Windmane and she was the wife or the mate of Glenstorm.

The Narnians gave a nod of approval and repeated Windmane’s words. Their strength fortified my own. I could feel it surging through my body like fire and igniting the air around me. Brenah could feel it as well; she whinnied and gave a little dance as I turned her about. I accepted the torch that was given to me with thanks. I took in a deep breath. I could do this.

Windmane came up beside me. “Stick to me, little queen and I will not let you fall.”

I smiled my appreciation. Caspian and Glenstorm rode in a moment later. Caspian met my gaze and nodded.

“Narnians,” he called. “Charge!”

There was a roar and a surge of power as we charged forward as a unit. Caspian and I led the way down a dark tunnel. The tunnel soon opened up into a vast cavern, larger even than the central cavern. There were rock and earthen pillars spaced throughout the cavern holding up the ground above us. A horn blew loud and clear behind us.

“One. Two.”

I began to count as I steered Brenah to the left. Half of the Narnians followed my lead, including Windmane and one of her sons. The rest remained with Caspian.

“Five. Six.”

The distance between our two groups grew until we stretched out across the wide expanse. The sound of hundreds of hooves and paws echoed throughout the cavern steadily growing louder until it was a consistent roar in my ears. Loose debris fell from the earthen roof and into my hair.

“Nine. Ten.”

“NOW!” I shouted over the din and raised the torch high above my head.

The stampede of hooves was coupled with grunting cries, heavy swings, and crumbling rock. The Centaurs, Minotaurs, Satyrs, and Giants all swung their oversized swords and axes into the earthen pillars. A dust cloud rose around us staining my dress and clouding my air. Just when I thought the noise would make my ears bleed and the dust would choke me, a ramp dropped down before me. Sunlight flooded the space around it revealing two Dwarves and a cut rope. I tossed the torch well out of the way and rode into the light.

Air! Fresh air! I could breathe. I could see, but only for a second. I drew my sword and turned Brenah in a large arc back to the How. Where once there was open field, smooth and unblemished, there now lay a great chasm surrounded by a cloud of dust. Arrows rained from the sky. Much of the Telmarine cavalry had fallen in the chasm; we rode to face those that did not.

The faster animals, the Cheetahs, Tigers, and Leopards surpassed me on the way. Up from the right side (now my left), Caspian and his team were surging just like I was. Peter, Edmund, and the remaining Narnians charged from the front; we had them surrounded.

The cavalry riders who managed to avoid our trap turned to meet us. I didn’t wait to parry first; I swung low and swiped at their legs or saddle ties. My plan was to incapacitate them or force them to dismount. Only if more extreme measures were needed did I comply. Windmane fought diligently alongside me.

I tried not to think about the harm I was causing the Telmarines, and I definitely didn’t want to see their faces. I didn’t want to look into the eyes of someone I knew. I didn’t want to see one of Kavena’s brothers or the boy Analee fancied looking back at me.

I knew these were the wrong sort of things to be thinking about. I should have been thinking about the Narnians and trying to protect them, and I did—to a certain degree—but my thoughts centered around ‘after.’ _After_ this war. _After_ we survived. We would have to find some way to intermingle as one cohesive nation. That would be difficult to do if I killed people who were cared about by someone I cared about.

Maybe this distraction is what led to my fall. Maybe it was exhaustion from not enough sleep. Maybe it was the ringing in my ears and the dust in my eyes. Or maybe it was simply the sword that came at me that I couldn’t avoid and I couldn’t block. Either way, I tasted the bitter bite of steel as it tore through my leg and cut my saddle strap. I tried to hold on but Brenah was frantic. She reared up and I tumbled backward.

I hit my head first on her rump, then on her back hoof, and then on something hard on the ground. The air in my lungs escaped me and I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t hear, and I could barely see. Everything was a blur. I tried to look for Windmane, but all I saw was the glaring sun reflected off of tin helmets. I raised my arm to fight but I had no sword and the effort alone made my vision swim with black.

I don’t know how long I was out, but it couldn’t have been long. My head still rang with the sounds of battle. My whole body felt like it had been trampled. Every muscle was sore; I had muscles that were sore that I didn’t even know were muscles.

I opened my eyes but things remained hazy. I blinked several times—each time felt like it took more effort than it should have—but my vision didn’t clear. All I could tell was that I was laying on my back and there was a canopy above me blocking the sun. I tried sitting up but my arms wouldn’t support my weight and the small bit of movement made my leg burn. I collapsed back down and cried out in agony.

“Lay still, my Lady. You shouldn’t move; you might disturb the tourniquet.”

I didn’t recognize the voice, but I knew it wasn’t a Narnian.

“Who are you? Where am I?” I tried sitting up again. It was less painful than before, but my arms were still too weak. My right elbow buckled sending me toppling to the side.

“My Lady, please. You’ll hurt yourself.”

“Who are you?” I asked again.

A face appeared before me. Like adjusting the view on a spyglass, my brain had to twist and turn until the face came into focus. Long dark hair tied back with a piece of leather, deep brown eyes with a scar above his left brow—no one quite knew how he got it, though my cousins had several theories—and the very distinct and prominent smell of leather and horse. The Stable Master’s son at Highcliff.

“Enrik?”

Enrik nodded. “It is I, my Lady. Your uncle has asked me to keep watch over you and he’ll be very cross should anything happen. So, please, lay still.”

“My uncle? Where is he? Where am I? What’s going on?”

“The Narnians are fighting but you’re safe behind our barricade. Lord Carryk is out by the line. Shall I go get him for you?”

“Yes please.”

“All right, but you must promise to lay still.”

Enrik left before I could say anything so it wasn’t really breaking a promise if I never made it. Slowly, and with great effort, I finally managed to push myself into a seated position. The air around me spun and for a moment I was sure I was going to be sick. My arm felt like it was a loaded cart of stone as I tried to self-examine my head. I flinched and winced when I found a rather tender spot on my forehead. The entire left bottom half of my dress was stained with blood. I could see the rip in my skirt where the blade had cut through, and I could feel the pressure of the tourniquet around my calf—I didn’t want to know who had tied it there. My wrist and ankle were sore, but I didn’t appear to have any other injures (unless you counted the consistent ringing in my ear).

After my self-inspection, I looked around at my surroundings. The canopy above me was made of leaves and there were trees on either side. On the ground next to me lay my corset, the laces cut with a blade; I felt strangely exposed and crossed my arms over my chest. In front of me, I could see the backs of many armored soldiers, some still had their helmets on but many had removed them. I sat on a thin cloak and I could feel every rock and twig beneath me, including a very pointy one under my right thigh. I tried to remove it and in doing so I had to rock onto my left leg, igniting my body in burning pain.

“Ahh!” My eyes stung with tears.

“Reagan?!” My uncle pushed his way through the backline of soldiers with Enrik at his side. I quickly crossed my arms over my chest again. My uncle shot Enrik a look.

“Don’t be mad at him, Uncle. I made no promise of lying still. And this,” I held up the bothersome twig, “hurt like a fall from a horse.”

If my uncle’s stern frown said anything, it was that he was not amused. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” I replied but my uncle didn’t approve of that answer either. “I feel like I’ve been stabbed, fallen off my horse, and trampled. Now, what’s going on out there?”

My uncle was still not fully pleased. “There is a war.”

“Don’t give me that, Lord Carryk. If you will not tell me what is happening, then you will help me to my feet so that I may see for myself.”

I used the full authority that was given to me. My uncle was not used to me using such a tone; his eyes widened and he rocked back on his heels. Next to him, Enrik’s eyes swiveled from my uncle to me and back again.

“You don’t want to know, Reagan,” my uncle said gently.

“Yes. I do want to know.”

He sighed in defeat. “It was a good ploy, collapsing the ground and attacking on all fronts. It was a sound strategy; the cavalry wasn’t expecting it. But now Sopespian has called for the trebuchets. The Keep is being bombarded and the brunt of the Telmarine infantry is approaching. The Narnians are desperately outnumbered.”

I closed my eyes. He was right; I didn’t want to know, but I needed to know. “I should be out there with them. How did I get here?”

“I’ve been watching from the front line along with Reltaz and Montoya. I saw you fall and I sent my men to fetch you to safety.”

“And Brenah? Where is she?” My uncle did not respond immediately. “Where is my horse?”

“We have her, but…” His voice faded.

“But what?”

“She has a broken leg, my Lady,” Enrik said. “My father is tending to her and keeping her calm. It is a minor break, but a break all the same. Your uncle is under the belief that we should end her suffering, but I thought you’d want to say farewell first.”

“No! No, we are not euthanizing her.”

“Reagan…”

“NO, Lord Carryk. Queen Lucy told me about a special cordial, one that can cure any injury. When she returns with Aslan, we can cure Brenah’s leg. I won’t lose her.”

My uncle looked as skeptical as I felt. I had no idea if the cordial would work on a horse or a broken leg. And I didn’t know how long it might be before Lucy returned. I didn’t even know if Lucy still _had_ the cordial; she didn’t say, but I knew I couldn’t say goodbye to Brenah.

“Aslan?” Enrik said after a small pause. “I do not know the name, but it fills my heart with joy to hear it.”

“It does mine as well,” I said. “He is the Narnian God and Queen Lucy has gone to seek Him and His aid. He will come. Now, help me to my feet. I need to see what’s happening.”

Enrik moved forward but my uncle stopped him. “Reagan, you cannot.”

“I must, Uncle. I cannot lie here in safety while my people are made to suffer, and I cannot run and hide while they die. If I am to meet the gods before nightfall, then I shall do so with my sword in hand.” I looked around. “Where is my sword?”

“On the battlefield still. I thought it more important to bring you in.”

“Was that before or after you had my laces cut?” I looked sideways at my corset.

“Before. By the time they got you in here, you had ceased breathing; cutting your laces was necessary.”

“I stopped…” I paused mid-sentence and pushed that matter aside; I would deal with that later. “That doesn’t change anything. I need to see what’s happening. Help me stand.”

My uncle sighed in weary apprehension and slowly moved forward; he knew there was no convincing me otherwise once my mind was set. Together he and Enrik lifted me to my feet. My head spun and again I thought I was going to be sick, but again the feeling passed. My uncle took up his cloak and shook off the forest floor—the ibex danced on the embroidered cliff with his movements—and he clasped it around my shoulders giving me some semblance of decency at least.

It was a slow painful walk. I had one arm wrapped around Enrik’s neck as he was the shorter of the two. His arm was fastened around my waist and he bore the brunt of my weight. I used my uncle’s right arm for support as I limped forward. The line of soldiers parted for me. There were hushed whispers of ‘my Lady,’ a few nodding heads, and a handful of bows as I passed. The frontline was crowded as everyone tried to push in to see. A barrier of long shields set the perimeter. Lords Reltaz and Montoya stood with their horses.

“My Lady, though it is good to see you up, you should not be out here.”

“I have already tried, ‘Toya. The Lady is as stubborn as her father was.”

 _“You have too little of your mother in you, and too much of me I fear.”_ My father’s voice rang in my mind and I smiled at the memory.

“You bet the gods I do,” I said. “The blood of Highcliff and Wellspring Fare runs through me. Who dares to stand against me?”

“I’m afraid many do,” Lord Reltaz said, glancing over the field.

I left the support of Enrik and limped to the line of shields peered over the edge. The ground shook with the rolling trebuchets. Gryphons flew overhead with stone or archer in their grasp, but many of them fell to the ballistae. I couldn’t hear the command, but I could see the Narnians retreating to the How. The trebuchets were now much closer however and they could hit the How with more precision. Before my eyes, I saw a portion of the How collapse and a cloud of dust rise in its wake. The Narnians had nowhere to go; the Telmarine infantry was closing in on all sides.

“We have to help them,” I said. “We have to fight.”

“How? The instant we step beyond that barrier we will be targeted,” Reltaz said. “We would be attacking our countrymen.”

“No. You will be _helping_ your countrymen. This land belonged to the Narnians before it was ours, and it will be ours to share with them when this war is over.”

“The war is over, Lady Reagan.”

“Yes.” I grinned. “But not in the way that Sopespian or you seem to think.” I looked around at the men. They were all dressed in the typical Telmarine infantry garb: padded vests, gauntlets, and helmets. Only the Lords had more armor. “Strip your vests.”

“What?”

“Leave the chainmail, but strip your vests and lose the helmets. It will be small, but the difference between you and the Telmarines will be noticeable. We can fight with our King.”

“We are Telmarines,” one soldier shouted.

“No. Today you become Narnians. You become free men who choose to fight for a cohesive Narnia. The gods are with us. Aslan is with us. If we believe and trust, then we cannot fail.” I looked at each of the lords. “Strip your vests.”

My uncle nodded. “You heard Lady Reagan,” he barked to his men. “Strip your vests and take up arms!”

Less than a minute later, I was sitting atop my uncle’s horse, a sword raised in the air, while the Narnians behind me rushed the back of the Telmarine army.


	12. Healer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Help arrives for the Narnians in battle, and Reagan meets Aslan.

**Chapter 12**

**Healer**

Our numbers were too few to change the course of the battle, but our distraction was enough to spilt the attention of the Telmarines and prevent the Narnians from annihilation. I wanted to be amongst the fighting as I was before, but it was all I could do just to stay atop Hyro. The bit of walking and moving I did to get there had agitated my leg. I could feel something running down my calf and a searing pain shot up every time Hyro twitched. I knew the pain was beginning to affect my head when the tree-line behind the How began to move. I pinched my eyes shut and gripped the reins until my knuckles turned white in an attempt to stop the swaying.

“Mother Telessa,” my uncle whispered.

I opened my eyes in a hurry, afraid I had missed something. Caspian had fallen! Or Edmund perhaps? I searched the field for them but the scene was too chaotic to properly find anyone. The swaying in my head only grew worse; now the trees behind the How appeared to be much closer and much bigger than they were a moment before. I was about to say something to my uncle when I noticed his wide awe-struck eyes were trained on the tree-line as well. All the lords were watching the trees. I looked over the battlefield again; even some of the Telmarines had stopped to watch the trees.

It wasn’t in my head! The Trees were actually moving! Great Oaks, and Elms, and Pine Trees were moving onto the field, wading through the earth like it was simply water.

“We must flee at once!” Lord Reltaz said in a near panic.

“Nay. Peace, my Lord. It’s Aslan,” I said. “He has awoken Telessa. Look, she moves to defend her kin.” As I spoke, the earth shook beneath us while the roots of a large Oak weaved their way across the expanse to tear down the trebuchets. My heart felt lighter and happier than it had since the start of the war. They had done it. Lucy and Jessalynn had found Aslan.

I could hear Sopespian’s call of retreat from across the field. He turned, and with him the remaining of the Telmarine army; they fled towards the Great River. The Narnians gave chase.

“They’re heading to Beruna. We don’t want to miss this. Uncle?”

I knew I couldn’t make the ride on my own in my condition, so I turned to my uncle for his assistance. He climbed up behind me and took the reins. I could see the Kings and Queen from a distance leading the Narnian charge through the forest. The rest of our group ran to follow them, but my uncle and I fell behind at a much slower pace. Though every step sent a wave of pain up leg and through my spine, I tried to urge my uncle and Hyro to go faster; they did not listen and we were the last to arrive.

The river bank was crowded with both armies, as such, my uncle and I couldn’t make it past the tree-line. From atop Hyro though, I could still see what was happening at the river’s edge.

The Telmarine army had begun to cross. They were waist deep when they stopped. A few soldiers were crossing via the bridge as well, including Sopespian who led the charge on Miraz’s white stallion. It was quite clear why the army had suddenly stopped their crossing, as there was a tumultuous roar of rushing water. Everyone turned their gaze up river where the water was gathering and taking shape.

“It’s Kidul,” I whispered in awe. A great rush of wind came up behind us, tossing the leaves and swirling rocks and sand in a small cyclone.

“And Venti,” my uncle added.

The soldiers on the bridge began to panic as Kidul and Venti rushed their way. They leapt from the bridge in an attempt to escape, all but Sopespian that is. Sopespian tried to continue the charge alone. Venti and Kidul charged after him. Venti pulled back, maintaining his stationary cyclone, and allowed Kidul to have his fun, but Kidul turned his eyes to the far river bank. That’s when I first saw Him.

Aslan.

The Lion.

His fur was a golden yellow as bright as the sun and His mane was like a raging fire. All other colors were dull and grey in comparison to Him. The light that emanated from Him and pooled at His feet was too much to bear, and yet I found I couldn’t turn away from Him. And at His side stood Lucy with her dagger drawn and Jessalynn, only…I almost didn’t recognize Jessa because she looked so different in His presence.

Aslan moved. The movement was so faint anyone could have missed it, but because He was so glorious everyone was watching intently so everyone knew. Aslan nodded. Kidul, our great and powerful god of water, master of life and death, was seeking permission from Aslan, the Narnian God and maker of life.

Kidul rose to his full height and tore the bridge from where it was anchored to the river banks. He lifted the bridge, and Sopespian along with it, to eye level. There was one terrifying moment where everyone held their breath and dreaded what they knew would come. My heart pounded in my ears. My palms turned sweaty with anticipation. Then, all at once, Kidul came crashing down on the bridge, splintering it into a thousand tiny pieces and washed away the evidence that it ever existed in the first place.

Everything was quiet after that. Then there was a ping somewhere off to my right and a ding to my left, and then slowly all around until there was a clamorous clash of steel on rock. The Telmarines were dropping their weapons. The war was over.

“Lady Reagan!” Windmane called as she trotted over. Her eyes drifted over my shoulder to my uncle and narrowed in wary apprehension.

“This is Lord Carryk,” I said. “Keeper of Highcliff and my uncle. He pulled me from the battle when I fell. I am alive because of the actions of him and his men.”

“The Kings will be pleased to hear it, though I am shamed I did not do it myself.”

“You were a bit busy at the time; all is well.” She bowed her head. “Uncle, this is Windmane.”

“I am pleased to make your acquaintance, my Lady.”

“Likewise, Lord Carryk.”

“Tell us, what can we do to help?”

She paused a moment and looked around; her eyes lingered on the far bank momentarily. “You, Lord Carryk, can assist with the collection of your countrymen; you can attest to who fought and who did not.”

“Excellent. I shall need the help of Lords Montoya and Reltaz as well. Their troupes also withheld from the fighting.”

“It shall be granted. Lady Reagan, you are wanted elsewhere.” Windmane’s eyes turned back to the far river bank. I followed her gaze this time and saw Edmund, his siblings, and Caspian conferring with Aslan.

“Oh. You mean…?”

“Yes. He wants to meet you.”

“Aslan wants to meet me?” This was incredible! This was unbelievable! This was…frightening, very, very frightening. My heart had palpitations. My throat was suddenly dry. “Oh.”

“Reagan?”

“It’s…it’s all right, Uncle. I’m all right. Go with Windmane and assist with the collection. If Aslan wishes to see me, then I must go to Him.”

I looked over my shoulder and smiled in a feeble attempt to hide my nerves. My uncle wasn’t fooled; like my father, he could always see past my pretenses, but he also knew when to question them and when to let them go. He gave my shoulders a gentle squeeze before sliding off Hyro’s back and handing me the reins. I immediately began making my way to the river’s edge. The water was flowing smoothly now, but the image of Kidul raging wildly was a haunting one. I stopped before beginning the cross and leaned forward on Hyro.

“May we cross?”

I didn’t receive any verbal response, but a feeling of contentment and pleasure washed over me, like a warm summer breeze. I knew it would be safe. I led Hyro across slowly, the water never rising above Hyro’s knees even though it had reached past the waists of the soldiers a few minutes prior.

Hyro’s footing remained sure and steady over the rocky bed until we reached the far bank. There everyone stood waiting for me. Edmund and his siblings, Caspian, Reepicheep and his Mice, Trumpkin the Dwarf, and Jessalynn all stood before Aslan. Jessalynn still looked vastly different than the Jessalynn I knew. They all looked different come to think of it. There was a lightness to their features, a shine in their eyes, something that might have always been there but now it was brought to the surface and displayed with prominence.

I slid from Hyro’s saddle with great care, though you wouldn’t have known by the look of it. Despite the care I took, the landing jolted me and my leg; I tipped forward. Edmund had come to help me and he caught me around the waist before I could fall.

“You have a knack for that, don’t you?” he teased with a smile. I tried to smile back, but it came out as more of a grimace. Edmund took in the spot on my head and the blood on my dress. “You’re injured. Lucy, come quick and bring your cordial!”

“I’m all…wait! The cordial’s real?”

Edmund grinned.

“Yes, it’s real,” Lucy replied. “What happened?” He eyes frowned as she took in the state of my clothes.

“To be honest, I…I don’t really know. It all happened so fast. I was fighting one moment and then waking up behind the barricade the next.”

Lucy stood on her toes and examined my head first. “This doesn’t look too bad. Any dizziness or sickness?”

“There was a bit of dizziness but no sickness, just the feeling. They’re both gone now. The ringing has stopped too.”

“All right, good. That should be fine then, but let me or one of the Centaurs know right away if that should change.”

“I will.” I nodded.

“Jessa, hold her to that. No exceptions. A head wound is no trifling matter.”

“Of course, Lucy.”

I looked between the two of them. A great bond had formed on their mission together. Jessa didn’t appear to be apologetic in the least that she had addressed Lucy by name and neglected her proper title. Her smile towards me only confirmed my suspicion.

“Now, I shall need to examine your leg,” Lucy continued.

“Right. Of course.” I grabbed a handful of my dress and began to lift the skirt, but I stopped when something moved in my peripheral. My eyes flew to Edmund.

“Oh! Right. Sorry.” He held up his hands and stepped to the other side of Hyro.

Lucy knelt on the ground before me as I raised my skirt. Even I hadn’t looked at my leg before then. It was a hideous blackish-purple and caked with blood. I had to look away, but Lucy’s gaze remained steady.

“I’m going to have to remove the tourniquet to properly address it,” she said softly.

I nodded and bit my bottom lip to keep from crying out. Her hands, however, were soft and nimble; I hardly felt them at all. It made me think she’d had many years of practice, and she probably had, I realized. I didn’t even know she had taken out her dagger until I heard the fabric tear on its sharp edge. Then I heard what sounded like the popping of a cork from a jar of ale. The sweetest fragrance I’d ever smelled reached my nose a second later; it was far better than the Calormen perfumes Queen Reanna used to wear. I felt the drop of something cool yet somehow warm at the same time fall onto my leg. I chanced a look down. The blackish-purple was quickly fading. The open wound sealed itself. The skin around it turned red, then pink, then the same pale flesh that was my normal color. Only a thin white line remained.

“It still scars, I’m afraid. I can’t get rid of that.”

“That’s…that’s all right. The pain… the pain is gone.” I slowly eased my weight back onto my leg. “It’s completely gone. Thanks…Queen Lucy.”

Lucy laughed and rolled her eyes. “How many times must I tell you? Call me Lucy.” She put the stopper back in her bottle and secured it about her waist.

“Does…does that work on a horse? If they have a broken leg?”

Lucy nodded. “Yes. Was Brenah injured during the battle?”

“Yes. She’s still back by the barricade with the stable master.”

“Then don’t worry. We will tend to her shortly, but first come! He so wants to meet you!”

I only had a second to process what she meant before she grabbed my hand and pulled me around Hyro. The others were all gone including Jessalynn, but Aslan was still there. He looked bigger, brighter, and more beautiful up close than He had from afar. He also looked more terrifying and frightening.

“Aslan, this is…”

“Reagan,” He finished for Lucy. The sound of His voice was like a thunderstorm in high spring: peaceful and calming but with the potential to be bold and fearsome. “Daughter of Lady Anora and Lord Morvyn.”

“You know me?”

“I know all my children.”

This puzzled me but I kept my confusion to myself.

“Lucy.”

“Yes, Aslan?”

“I have sent the others back to the How to assess the losses. Hurry to them and tend to any wounded you find.”

Lucy looked at me and smiled sadly. I could tell she wanted to stay with me, but I knew she couldn’t refuse the Lion. I gave her hand a squeeze to let her know I understood.

“Yes, Aslan.” She hugged His neck—something which I wasn’t sure I’d ever be brave enough to do—and hurried on her way.

“You have questions, my child,” He said once we were alone. “Speak them freely.”

“Its’s…it’s just you call me your child. How can that be when I do not know you?”

Aslan wasn’t angry at my questioning Him like I thought He might have been. Rather, He laughed and it sounded like rolling thunder.

“Those whom you call gods are but extensions of my love to guard and guide this land. When you have devoted your prayers to them, you have truly devoted them to me. For you could not have sought so long and so ardently for what you have if you were not seeking me.”

“And did my father seek you as well?”

“Child, you ask for a story that is not your own. I cannot tell you, but what does your heart say?”

“My heart? Well… Edmund said that my father was pardoned and that you would grant him rest. And I… I believe Edmund.”

The Lion smiled. “Then be content.” Then He stepped forward and breathed on me. Sweeter than Lucy’s cordial was the scent of the Lion, and better than any summer day was the feel of His breath. “Now, there is still work to be done. Let us go forward together.”

I gladly followed the Lion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I'm posting this, I'm sitting in my temporary bed on the last day of vacation. :'( (I don't want to go home...) However...it worked! I wrote out the last chapter (after starting it over like 4 different times until I could get it to flow right). Woohoo! Now I just have to get it typed and revised. That being said, we only have 2 chapters left in the Prince Caspian arc. :'(
> 
> It's not the end of Reagan's story, however. So here's my question for you: Would you rather I continue Reagan's story here and label it as a separate part, or post it as an entirely different story? (Either way it may take some time before I can post/update it because I haven't quite got it all envisioned yet. I have a general idea of where it will go (obviously it will follow the VOTD arc) but I need to work out the specifics.) I'm just curious which would be easier for you all to find/keep up with. A separate story, or a continuation of this one.
> 
> Your feedback would be greatly appreciated! And thanks for taking the time to read. I do hope you enjoyed it.


	13. Betrothed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of the war, Reagan takes Edmund on a tour of Beaver's Dam and they have a long awaited talk about their future.

**Chapter 13**

**Betrothed**

The next few days were a whirlwind packed with detaining the Telmarines, sorting out who among them fought and who didn’t, digging out the entrance to the How, Caspian’s royal coronation and knighting ceremony, and a parade through town. Though there wasn’t much of it, any downtime we had Edmund and I usually found ourselves in each other’s presence.

One such time was the evening following the parade. I was sitting in the town square—which was really more of a circle set on the side of the cliff—with Analee and Kavena. Windmane, who had taken it upon herself to become my personal guard, was there as well.

“Does she really think we would try to attack you?” Analee whispered, but not as softly as she had intended; I knew by her look that Windmane had heard.

“No, of course not,” I replied in a normal tone. “Windmane knows you are my friends. She’s here because she feels an unnecessary bout of guilt for some reason.”

“Unnecessary? You nearly died while under my charge. I will not let that happen again.”

“You nearly died?” Analee exclaimed.

“I did not. You’re exaggerating, Windmane, and frightening my friends.”

“Lord Carryk claims you stopped breathing.”

“What!?” Analee’s eyes went wide and her face turned white. Kavena sat silent and still.

“The fall knocked the air from my chest. My uncle cut the laces on my corset and I was fine.”

“Reagan…”

“And thanks to Jessa’s brilliant work,” I pushed on. “You can’t see the mark on my head, and Lucy’s cordial healed my leg entirely. So, as I said, I am perfectly fine.”

Windmane frowned. “His Majesty was right; you are argumentative.”

“I wouldn’t say argumentative, but I do like to make my point be heard.”

“I think you just proved the Centaur’s point,” Kavena muttered under her breath.

Analee laughed and agreed with Kavena. I frowned and looked at Windmane. Kavena had mostly kept quiet in our time together and when she did speak, she neither spoke to Windmane nor addressed her by name. It was always the Centaur or the Narnian. Windmane met my gaze and I knew she had noticed Kavena’s behavior as well.

I had sought the girls out individually soon after returning to Beaver’s Dam. I wanted to explain in person what was going on. Analee was, by far, the most accepting of the Narnians. Streya refused to see me as she was in mourning for her father and she blamed the Narnians for his death. Kavena remained a mystery to me. She seemed all right at times, but other times she remained quiet and sullen. I had taken Reepicheep with me when I spoke to her and her family so that he could attest to what really happened at Beruna. Her parents reacted in a manner similar to Streya and they were all skittish around Reepicheep.

“Have you been to see Caspian yet?” I asked Kavena.

“What?” She looked at me with eyes wide open. “Why…Why would I do that?”

“I’m not stupid, Kavena. I know you fancy him, and I’m fairly certain he fancies you as well. So, have you been to see him yet? I don’t mind if you have.”

Her face softened but her eyes turned downward. “No. Father won’t allow it. He says it’s unnatural what Caspian has done.”

“Unnatural? And I suppose he is fine with Miraz murdering his own brother and attempting to murder the rightful king?”

“Reagan…”

“You don’t have proof that Miraz did any of that.”

“Girls, please don’t…”

“No proof?” I ignored Analee’s pleas. “Glozelle gave testimony this morning to Miraz’s crimes. He swore under oath to the Just King.”

“Just as he swore under oath years ago to serve the King? It is his word against a deadman’s who cannot defend himself.”

“It isn’t just _his_ word; it’s Aslan’s word as well.”

“Stop it! Both of you!” Analee jumped to her feet and shouted before Kavena could say anything bad about Aslan. The act of Analee raising her voice was so out of character that Kavena and I were instantly silenced as we stared at her.

“Bickering like common school girls is no way for a lady of the court to act; we should have poise and fineness. Reagan, you must forgive us if we do not all have the ready ability to so easily accept such sudden change in our manner of thinking. We do not all have your companionship with King Caspian or the Narnians. We were not there at the battle to see all that happened. Likewise Kavena, you must forgive Reagan. She was not here to hear all that Miraz said about the brutality and viciousness the Narnians possessed. She was not held to the same fear that we were that any night another attack may come in which they may slaughter us in our homes. This is a new world for all of us, and we must learn to come together if we wish to make it a peaceful one.”

I felt rather like a scolded school girl after her tirade. Analee looked as shocked as I felt. Her eyes went white with fear, and her cheeks turned a deep crimson red. As angry and defensive as I wanted to be though, I knew she was right.

“I-I-I’m sorry. I…”

“Stop. Don’t apologize, Analee. You are right.” I turned to Kavena on my left. “I’m sorry, Kavena. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

Kavena kept her eyes downcast and nodded her head once. “I’m sorry too.”

I waited for Kavena to say more but she didn’t. I looked to Analee, she simply shrugged her shoulders. Our attention was drawn to a trotting horse. Edmund was riding down the square heading our way. Analee moved to stand at my side again.

“Oh! It’s the cute one,” she whispered in my ear. “What’s his name again?”

“Edmund.”

“Edmund,” she repeated his name softly like she was committing it to memory.

“Good evening, Ladies. I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

“We were just discussing the latest fashion trends. Have you any trends you wish to share from Eeglan?” I asked.

“Nay. My sister Susan would know it best, but I much prefer the clothing here in Narnia; it’s not as restricting.”

Edmund slid from the saddle easily and came nearer on foot. His eyes flitted to the girls, a devilish grin on his lips.

“King Edmund, these are my friends—” his brow quirked at the word “—Analee and Kavena.”

“Your Majesty.” Analee curtsied; Kavena gave a hasty and sloppy bob.

“Ladies, it is a great pleasure to meet the friends of Lady Reagan.”

I saw the jest in his eye as he bowed. Analee giggled. Edmund’s attempt at charm was lost on Kavena.

“I’m going home,” she said bluntly. Our eyes flew to her instantly. “It’s getting late; Father will be worried,” she offered as a poor excuse.

“Would you like an escort?” Edmund asked. I caught the faint hint of an edge to his voice.

“It is just around the corner. Thank you. Your Majesty.” Kavena’s curtsy was a little more proper that time.

There was a tense silence that followed her departure. Edmund looked at me quizzically. Analee watched us curiously, while I simply looked at her pleadingly. Her eye-roll was faint but present.

“Oh, all right, Reagan. I get it.” She turned to Edmund. “We shall have to do this again someday, King Edmund. Kavena! Wait up!” Analee curtsied before running after Kavena. They disappeared around the corner with their arms linked together.

“Is everything all right?” Edmund asked after a moment or two.

“Yes. Maybe. I don’t know.” I sighed and plopped down on the stone wall surrounding the fountain. Edmund sat next to me. “I fear not all my friends are adjusting to these changes.”

“Perhaps it’s something that will just take time. I seem to recall it took you a while to adjust to the Narnians.”

“Yes, and I had hoped that my friends would join me in that respect. Though, I did doubt that Streya would—her father was Lord Sopespian,” I explained; he nodded. “But, I have always thought of Kavena as my closest friend. It hurts to see her act the way she did. I am sorry for the rudeness she showed you. And I am sorry to you as well, Windmane that you had to bear the disdain that was coming from her.”

“It is not an offense for which you should apologize,” Edmund said.

“Still…” I worried my lip between my teeth and frowned.

“But we thank you all the same, Little Queen,” Windmane added.

Edmund’s brow furrowed in confusion as he turned his head towards the Centauress. It wasn’t the first time she called me ‘Little Queen.’ I didn’t know if she was unusually perceptive or if she somehow knew the truth about me and Caspian. Either way, it seemed quite clear that Edmund still didn’t know. I felt a great surge of guilt for keeping it from him, but how do you tell the boy you think you fancy that you’re betrothed to your best friend and expected to marry him in two years.

“Would you accompany me for a walk?” I asked. Edmund turned his face back to me. “There’s a place I’ve been wanting to go, but I’m too afraid to go it alone.”

“Will it cause you harm?”

“Not in the physical sense.”

Edmund seemed mildly curious for a second before he realized where I wanted to go; he nodded. “Lady Windmane, would you be so kind as to take this mare back to the castle stables? I will guard the Lady Reagan and see that she returns to your watch whole.”

Windmane was reluctant to leave me; I could see it in the way her eyes bore into me. And yet, she didn’t want to go against King Edmund’s request either. Her tail twitched in irritation while her torso bowed in respect.

“As you wish, Your Majesty.”

I was strangely captivated by the site of a battle-hardened Centauress leading a simple dumb mare by the reins.

“I think she’s taken a liking to you,” Edmund whispered, jolting me from my musings. His breath felt hot against my skin and yet my arm broke out in goose-flesh like I was cold. I tried to hide the shiver his voice elicited by covering it with false bravado.

“Well, can you blame her?” My plan backfired as the smile he gave me only served to triple the bumps.

“Not in the least. I think many of the Narnians have fallen prey to your grace and charm, Telmarines too, from what I hear. The Ibex of Highcliff, they call you, who thrives with an uphill climb. Your rallying of the troupes to aid us is quickly becoming legend.”

I shied under his praise; it still felt strange to be thought of as a war hero. “I…I don’t know that it should be all that. It wasn’t much. I didn’t really do anything. I sat on a horse; the men are the ones who fought.”

“Yes, but _you_ encouraged them to do so. It is something to be proud of, Reagan, and it did help us.”

His assurances made me feel a little better. I met his smile with one of my own. His smile was less smug and more earnest, but no-less stirring or bump-raising than then grin he gave me earlier. There was something else I noticed too, an odd feeling on my lap. I looked down and saw that he had placed his hand over mine, but it slipped and now rested on my leg. After a slight pause, he pulled it away and coughed.

“You mentioned something about a walk?”

“Oh! Oh yes. Come. I will show you Beaver’s Dam as you have yet to see it. It was too dark the first time you were here, and since our return, you have been too busy to see it well.”

We made our way from the Fount of the Gods to the High Street by way of the various side streets and back alleys. I took my time and showed Edmund the beauty of Telmarine architecture that was crafted in each building. Every house or building had their families insignia carved on a stone above their front door and, from really proud families, above every window. There were wolves and ravens, roses and wheat fields, foxes and owls, and many others.

There were several townspeople out that evening enjoying the pleasant air and the renewed atmosphere. Most of them greeted us with warm affection and curtsies or bows and addressed us both by title. We even came across a group of young boys playing pareteball behind a few of the houses. Edmund seemed particularly intrigued by the sport so we stopped and admired their skill for a bit. The boys offered to let us join. I declined on the principle that I wasn’t dressed properly for it (you can hardly be expected to kick a ball off a wall and into the goal while wearing a dress), and Edmund declined on the principle that he was my escort for the evening and he didn’t know the rules. 

We left the boys to their game and continued on our way. I made sure our tour took us by my favorite bakery. It was a place my father and I would always visit together, and it was known for its excellent tarts. I was thrilled when the Baker offered us both a fresh tart at no cost.

“It is a lovely town,” Edmund said as we strolled along the outer rim by some housing units. “And the people are very nice.”

“Yes…except the Cobbler, or the Tailor… or the Glass Maker…”

“But the Baker, he was nice,” Edmund interrupted. “And this tart is the best I’ve ever had. Mind you, I’ve had many tarts… Fruit tarts that is, not the other kind.”

“Other kind?” I looked at him curiously.

“In England, ‘tart’ is another word for—” he seemed to think better of it “—never mind.” He coughed and looked away briefly.

“Oh. You mean…?” My eyes went wide. “Yes, we have those sorts of tarts here as well, mostly up north near Rockridge. I went there once with my uncle, for business not pleasure; my father didn’t know about it he wouldn’t have approved if he had. It’s a very bawdy town.”

Edmund smiled and ate the last of his tart.

When we arrived at our destination, a semi-vacant lot, I felt Edmund’s eyes on me as he stopped to let me go ahead of him. Where there once stood a symbol of comfort, warmth, and love there was now only a pile of charred rubble and a few lone pillars. I closed my eyes. I could still see the arched doorway that led into the parlor, the small garden that sat in front, and the pitched roof above our heads. I could hear laughter. I could hear arguments. I could hear proclamations of love.

The ground shifted beneath my foot as I stepped forward. I bent down to see what caused it and pulled a block of blackened stone from the rubble. I brushed off the soot with my hand until my palm turned black from the effort. The carving came into view: an Ibex entwined with a fox. I brushed the tear from my cheek and looked around at the destruction.

“Behold! The epitome of Telmarine rage and fear.” I turned from the rumble and moved back to the street where Edmund stood waiting and watching. “And to think, I once took great pride in our force.” I sat on the curb with the stone in my lap. Edmund sat next to me.

“It’s strange,” I continued after a short silence. “It doesn’t quite feel like I expected it to.”

“How did you expect to feel?” he asked.

“Angry. Hurt. Sad. Alone.”

“And what do you feel?”

I thought about it a moment. “Pity…for the ones who did this, what fear they must have felt in carrying out the order, knowing that if they didn’t then it would be done to their homes as well. Shame for ever having such pride as this. A bit of sadness still…”

Edmund nodded his head in understanding.

“But also…love.”

“Love?”

I nodded. “My father knew what would happen to him, to our home, if we ran but he chose to face that possibility to protect me, to protect this country.” I smiled. “That leads me back to a bit of pride again, but of a different sort.”

Edmund chuckled. “Pride itself isn’t a bad thing. When you have too much pride and you let it interfere with reason that’s when it becomes an issue.”

“Thanks for walking here with me. I’m not sure I had the courage on my own.”

“You are welcome, but…I know you would have found the courage. After all, it takes great courage….” He hesitated on his next words and looked across the street. “To become queen.”

I watched him carefully; the air shifted around us and became thicker. My heart beat in my chest. He sat unmoving, unblinking, perhaps unbreathing even as he waited for my response. My mouth inched open slowly. My words came out in a hushed whisper; his eyes closed. His shoulders tensed. And his head dropped a fraction of an inch.

“You…know?” I asked.

“I didn’t have confirmation…until now.”

He slowly turned his head to look at me. The hurt was unmistakable and undeniable on his face. The corners of his eyes were turned down in a frown that mirrored his lips. His pupils were a shade darker than usual, and small lines creased on his forehead.

“Oh.” I couldn’t bear the pain I saw in his features, so I looked down at the stone in my lap. “How… how did you…?” I couldn’t finish the words.

“How did I figure it out?” His voice had just the slightest edge to it again and I knew, among everything else, he was angry as well.

I nodded my head but I still couldn’t meet his gaze.

“There were several clues looking back on it now. Caspian’s insistence to rescue you. The reason he let go in the first place. Your speech. Your intimate knowledge of the lords of the council, which, I’m now sure, is greater than any common girl’s knowledge. The respect the lords show you. Windmane’s pet name for you. The portraits in the castle entitled ‘The Queen Mother—insert name here—’ and your own matching title of Mother Apparent. But most significantly… the respect the townspeople showed you just tonight. They greeted you and welcomed you with love and respect and admiration that I have personally witnessed is usually reserved for kings and queens. They all know that you’re going to be their queen, don’t they?”

I nodded, still looking down at the stone.

He sighed forcefully, and somehow I knew he was looking away from me as well. “Speaking all of this out-loud makes me feel like even more of a fool than I am.”

“Stop!” My head snapped up. “Don’t! You…you shouldn’t feel like that.”

“You are betrothed to Caspian.” He looked at me sharply. “You lied to me, or at the very least you hid it from me. How else am I supposed to feel?”

“I didn’t lie.”

“You said he was a friend.”

“He _is_ a friend. He’s my best friend, and I do think of him more as a brother than a potential lover. And… yes, I am betrothed to him, since I was five years old. I had no choice in the matter. Our mothers arranged it and our fathers sealed it before the gods. I…I am sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I…I don’t know. I guess… I didn’t think I needed to; I didn’t think it would matter. I mean, you couldn’t…” _possibly fancy me_ , I wanted to say but didn’t. “Before you, the only time a boy would speak to me would be to ask about Streya, or Kavena, or Analee even. They all knew I was betrothed to the crown prince and therefore I wasn’t worth the effort or the hassle. It…It was nice to have someone, to have a boy speak to me like a person, to see me, the _real_ me, as I am even if it was just for a short while. I am sorry if my silence on the matter hurt you.”

He sighed and I could see the anger leave his shoulders. His tone was softer when he spoke again. “You weren’t alone in that silence. Caspian never mentioned it either.”

“He so rarely mentions it even to me, and when he does it is always more of a jest than anything else.”

Edmund furrowed his brow in confusion. “You sound as though neither of you wishes to marry the other.”

I shrugged and looked away.

“Reagan, look at me please,” he said gently. “In Narnia, no one, man or beast, is forced to marry or mate against their will. Do you want to marry Caspian?”

“It’s not about what I want, Edmund. It’s about what Narnia needs. Whatever she asks of me I will give. If she asks for my life, I will give it. If she asks for my heart, I will give it. Surely, you can understand that?”

He nodded solemnly. “Probably better than most.”

We sat in silence for a moment, both of us contemplating where that left us. The sun began its slow descent behind the tallest buildings. The evening birds began their nightly song, and the castle bells chimed the hour. We both stood with little fanfare and began our trek back to the castle.

Our walk back was a very different one. It remained somber despite our attempts to make it otherwise. Though we both smiled and laughed, they were half-smiles and forced laughs. I didn’t ask him about what we might be to each other in the two years before I was married; it was irrelevant. I meant what I said to Caspian in the How, I would never do that to him and I knew that Edmund wasn’t that sort of person either—even if he had been in other girls’ bed-chambers before. Still, the thought of letting Edmund go was devastating; I couldn’t fully understand why.

We stopped and stood in silence in the foyer. I don’t think either one of us wanted our time alone to end, knowing it would be the last time to be as we were before he knew. What I wouldn’t give to go back to that moment on the curb, to deny it all. Or to go back further still and prevent my parents from making the arrangement in the first place. But I knew that wasn’t possible.

“Edmund, I…”

“Reagan! You’re back!” Lucy exclaimed from down the hall. She and Jessalynn made their way towards us effectively ending our time alone.

Edmund gave a faint smile that said everything I felt and made his farewell. I pushed aside my feelings to face my friends and my future with a smile I hoped covered my breaking heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Reagan and Edmund had a long awaited and much needed talk...however, it didn't quite go how either of them hoped it would. I thought about having the betrothal come as a complete shock to Edmund, but then I realized his keen mind would have picked up on the clues even if he didn't want to believe or listen to it at the time.
> 
> Can you believe there's only 1 chapter remaining? I can't! It's not the end of Reagan's story, however. So here's my question for you: Would you rather I continue Reagan's story here and label it as Part 2, or post it as an entirely different story? (Either way it may take some time before I can post/update it because I haven't quite got it all envisioned yet. I have a general idea of where it will go (obviously it will follow the VOTD arc) but I need to work out the specifics.) I'm just curious which would be easier for you all to find/keep up with. A separate story, or a continuation of this one.
> 
> Your feedback would be greatly appreciated! And thanks for taking the time to read. I do hope you enjoyed it.


	14. Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lord Carryk gives Reagan a lot to think about, but is it too late?

**Chapter 14**

**Together**

It had been nearly a week since Edmund and I walked to the ruins of my house, and we’d seen each other personally very little since. Every day was filled with more meetings and hearings. He attended them as the Just King of Old, and I was there as the future queen of the new king. Any interactions we had remained polite and cordial, but his siblings and Caspian all knew something was off.

I watched absentmindedly through the mirror as Jessalynn worked on my hair. She styled it differently each day. Sometimes she did Lucy’s or Susan’s as well. Already I noticed a few of the female courtiers, Telmarine and Narnian alike, copying some of the styles. Jessalynn was styling it now for a meeting Aslan had called for with all the Telmarines. We were to gather in the Town Square. She had just finished the last curl when there was a knock on my door. A moment later one of the young stewards entered my dressing room.

“Lord Carryk is here to see you, my Lady.”

I met eyes with Jessalynn through the mirror. Why was my uncle here, I wondered. Jessalynn shook her head slightly. She didn’t know either.

“Thank you. I will see him in the sitting room.”

My new chamber suite in the castle consisted of four separate rooms. There was a washroom, a sleeping room with a large bed and a single couch to read on, a dressing room for my wardrobe, and a small sitting room equipped with several chairs and sofas to host visitors. I walked into the sitting room to find my uncle standing by the large window that faced west; a look of deep concentration on his face.

“Uncle Carryk,” I called to him. He turned to see me and quickly schooled his features into an easy smile. We embraced and then I moved to one of the sofas to sit. My uncle remained standing.

“What brings you by today?” I asked.

“Can an Uncle not call on one of his two favorite nieces?”

“You only have two nieces and everyone knows you like Analee better.”

“Well, I can’t argue that.” He teased.

I rolled my eyes playfully. “What brings you by?” I asked again.

He smiled and indicated to the spot beside me. “May I?”

“Yes! Of course! I’m sorry; I keep forgetting that part.”

As the now recognized Lady of Highcliff and Custodian of Wellspring Fare until my Uncle Rhoop could return or a proper replacement could be found, it was considered improper for anyone to sit in my presence without first being given permission. Unless, of course, I was in the presence of any one of the Kings or Queens, in which case I had to be permitted to sit even in my own suites. Incidentally, Lucy was just as bad at remembering to offer someone to sit as I was.

My uncle sat on the sofa next to me. Though he tried to hide it, I could see a deep look of contemplation wash back over him. It was a look my father often had when he was hard at work in his study. I followed my uncle’s gaze to the stone emblem of the Ibex and Fox I’d brought back from the town. Whatever my uncle wanted to talk about, I knew it was serious. So I gave him time to gather his thoughts. That was one difference between my uncle and my father that I noticed; Father very rarely had difficulty in voicing his thoughts.

After a while, my uncle smiled and turned his head to me. “Sorry. I was just thinking of Morvyn, and how much easier this would be for him.”

I smiled softly and placed my hand over his. It was all the encouragement he needed.

“I want you to know, Reagan, how proud I am and how proud your father would be with the way you’ve handled yourself lately.”

“Thank you, but I…I’m not sure what you’re talking about. I haven’t really done anything.”

My uncle smiled expectantly. “Case and point right there. The Reagan I remember from two months ago would have accepted the praise without a second thought. And she probably would have expected more.”

“The Reagan from two months ago wasn’t very grounded in reality. All she wanted to do was leave a place of warmth, security, and love and trade it for a palace of lies and deception. She was oblivious to the horrors around her and to the atrocities her people committed.”

“It is a flaw in our making, that sometimes we see only what we want to see. What matters most, is that once you learned of the injustice you sought diligently to correct it. I am proud of you for that as well. Perhaps though…” He sighed and I knew, at last, we were coming to what he really wanted to discuss. “I am most proud of the allegiance you have shown to Caspian.”

I was confused. “Well of course my allegiance lays with Caspian. He is my friend and my King. And one day he will be my…” I took a breath and swallowed. “He will be my husband as well.”

“Will he?”

I turned to my uncle, now even more confused. “Yes. You know we are betrothed. Mother arranged it and Father sealed it.”

“It is true that they saw a match for you and took it to secure your happiness. The key to that being _your_ _happiness_ though. They would not want you to marry Caspian out of duty alone.”

“Caspian’s parents married out of duty.”

“Caspian the Ninth and Reanna were a fortunate pair. They were betrothed young, as you were, and fell in love before they were wed. Though you and Caspian have formed a great bond, you do not feel for each other as I know your parents had hoped.”

“You did not love Aunt Marta when you wed her, and yet I know you learned to love her. I will do the same with Caspian.”

“I know you would, and you would be a Queen this country could be proud of. But…” He gave a huff that sounded more like a laugh. “We find ourselves in a Narnia that now has more than one King to which you could love and perhaps marry.” He gave me an expectant look.

“But I… I do not love King Edmund.” Even as I said the words I could taste the almost lie in them.

My uncle smiled. “Perhaps not yet, but I think you are closer to loving him than you ever have been with Caspian.”

I knew he was right. I moved to the stone emblem; it had become a source of comfort in the last week. My uncle sighed.

“I did not come to make things complicated for you, but I wanted you to know your parents would want you to be happy, whatever that entails. And as your uncle, I wish for the same.”

When I did not respond immediately, he moved towards the door. I called after him. “Thank you, Uncle. You have given me something to ponder.”

“Narnia belongs to the Narnians, same as it does for man,” Caspian said.

We stood on the outer-rim of the Town Square near the old tree. Edmund and his siblings stood on one side while I stood with a few Narnians on the other side. Caspian stood in the middle.

I thought about what my uncle said a lot in the hour that passed since I last spoke to him, but still, I wasn’t sure what to do. I wanted to make my parents proud and yet I wanted to do right by Narnia and the gods. But how was I to know what that was?

I thought back on all the times I spent with Caspian, or many of them at least. I thought of how he made me laugh effortlessly, how he teased me relentlessly, and how he annoyed me persistently. I’d seen the same teasing and annoying behavior between my cousin Malin and his sisters.

Though Edmund made me laugh just as effortlessly as Caspian did and though he teased me as relentlessly, I had yet to become annoyed by him. In fact, the feelings I had for Edmund were quite different from anything I’d ever felt for Caspian.

If I married Caspian, I would honor our vows. I would abide by him. I would be faithful and loyal to him, and I would come to love him but not in the way I remembered his parents loving each other, nor in the way my parents loved each other. Perhaps not even in the way my Uncle Carryk loved my Aunt Marta. Our love would be something different. Something unique only to us.

But…How much happiness would it bring me?

With Edmund, however, there was something about the spark in his eye when he smiled at me, or the fire in his voice when he laughed, or the genuine compassion on his face when we talked about the things we’d lost that set my heart aflame. I craved to be in his presence. I longed to know him better. I didn’t know if our love would be the kind of magical one that would transcend from one world to the next or to the life beyond this one, but wasn’t it at least worth exploring?

As Caspian and Aslan continued their speeches, I watched Edmund across the way. He met my gaze and smiled. Before the gathering had begun, while still deep in my ponderings of what to do, I managed to catch Edmund alone long enough to ask a single question.

_“What if there wasn’t a betrothal to Caspian or anyone else?”_

The smile he had given me was one I hadn’t seen for days, and it melted me from the inside out.

_“If you weren’t betrothed? Well, I…I think that would change everything. For **both** of us.”_

Change things indeed, but change them how? He didn’t say. I tried to catch Caspian before the meeting began as well, but there wasn’t time. All I managed to do was tell him that I thought we should talk when the meeting was over. Caspian had only nodded briefly. At the time, I still didn’t know what we needed to talk about exactly or even how to talk about it.

As I locked eyes with Edmund and returned his smile though, it was like we alone knew the secrets to the universe. I just knew then, that whatever this was, it was definitely worth exploring.

Meanwhile, Aslan was explaining where we Telmarines had come from _before_ we were Telmarines. There was an island in the World of Men—the same world as Edmund and his siblings—where a bunch of sea-faring brigands ran aground. They plundered the villages and took the native women for wives. Some time later, they found a chasm that led them to this world and they established the land of Telmar.

“Do you hear my words well, my Son and Daughter?” Aslan asked both Caspian and myself.

“Yes, Aslan,” we replied.

“Though, I do wish we had come from a more honorable line,” Caspian added.

“You come from the Lord Adam and the Lady Eve. That is both honor enough to erect the head of the poorest beggar and shame enough to bow the head of the highest king. Be content.”

“Yes, Aslan.”

“Now,” Aslan looked back out at the sea of people gathered. “For those of you who wish, I will return you to the island of your forefathers. It is a good land ripe for planting and good for fishing. The people of that would have not yet found it. It is a good place to make a fresh start.”

“How do we get there?” someone from the crowd cried out.

“Through this door.”

Aslan turned and with something of a mix between a purr and a roar, He breathed on the old tree. There was a groaning and a creaking like old trees sometimes do in a bad storm, and the tree twisted and spun until there was a large opening amid the trunk. Through the hole, I could see the blue sky and distant mountains of Narnia as though it was a doorway that led nowhere. However, I was close enough to hear the cawing of an unfamiliar bird and smell a strange and salty air.

“I will go! I will accept the offer,” General Glozelle said stepping forward.

I was surprised by this and I knew Caspian was also. Glozelle had been very forthcoming and helpful in his hearing. The root of Miraz’s evilness went deeper than either Caspian or I could imagine and Glozelle was vital in digging it out.

“I had hoped you’d stay on in the council,” Caspian said.

Glozelle bowed his head. “You and I both know that my crimes are too great, deserving of death. If you will not give me that, then I will choose exile.”

“Then I hope you can find the peace you deserve.” Caspian shook his hand and allowed him to pass on to Aslan.

“Because you have spoken first, your future in that world shall be bright.” Then Aslan breathed on him and the same great change I’d seen in others, I saw in him. A moment later, Glozelle moved forward, stepped through the hole, and vanished from sight.

There was an outcry of Telmarine protest.

“Where did he go?”

“What did you do to him?”

“He’s leading us to our death!”

“Sire,” began Reepicheep, “if my service could be of any use, I would gladly lead eleven Mice through without delay.” He removed his circlet and bowed low.

Aslan merely smiled.

“We’ll go.” Peter’s voice was quite unexpected. I turned and looked at him and saw him sharing a look with Susan.

“We will?” Edmund asked. His eyes darted to me briefly before returning to his brother.

Peter nodded. “Our time is up.”

“What?” I whispered, but Edmund heard anyway and turned towards me again.

Our eyes locked and I knew the same things that were running through my head were running through his as well. This couldn’t be happening right now. It wasn’t supposed to go like this. Weren’t they meant to stay and rule alongside Caspian? I found it suddenly difficult to remember how to breathe.

Peter moved towards Caspian and took off his fabled sword Rhindon. “After all, we’re not really needed here.” He handed the sword to Caspian.

“I will look after it until you return.”

My eyes stayed locked with Edmund’s. Everything I had planned to discuss with Caspian, what did it matter now? There was no choice to be made; it was being made for me, and it’s not the solution I wanted. I saw a possible future slip through my fingers as easily as water. Breathing became harder and my eyes welled with tears I fought to contain.

“I’m afraid that’s just it. We’re not coming back,” Susan said.

Well, that’s it then isn’t it? There could be nothing more. Ours was to be a fleeting kind of love. Less than that even. It was only a mere thought. A distant possibility. Something which could never see the light of day.

A tear rolled down my cheek.

“We’re not?”

“You two are,” Peter answered. “At least, I think He means for you to.”

For a whole half of a second, I felt hope again. He’d come back. This wasn’t the end of it after all. There was still a chance.

Then I thought back to that wall of parietal art in the How. It was a thousand years old, and yet it didn’t exist last time they were here. All hope vanished in the blink of an eye.

My eyes stayed on Edmund until Lucy stepped into view. She threw her arms around my neck and I squeezed her back. I fought my tears as hard as I could. She pulled away and moved on to Trumpkin and the others. I said goodbye to Susan next and then Peter, but I don’t remember what either of them said.

Edmund came last of all. He stood before me, eyes wide and with a faint shimmer to them. He opened his mouth to say something but no words could come out. What was there to say that could be said in the time we had to say it?

“I know,” I whispered so only he could hear.

He bowed slow an deep and I curtsied. When he arose, he took his place next to his siblings. As they stepped through the tree, a long line of Telmarines formed behind them.

Later that night, Caspian and I sat together in the dining hall. We’d had a feast in honor of our new friends. The work to establish the new council would begin in the morning. For now, everyone celebrated. Everyone but me and Caspian.

Many of our friends had left. Streya and her family. Caspian’s Aunt with her father and Caspian’s newest cousin. Almost all the lords of the council left, only a handful remained. Perhaps the most shocking departure apart from the Pevensies was that of Kavena and her family. Her departure had hurt Caspian as much as Edmund’s hurt me.

“Oh!” Caspian said out of nowhere. “I forgot. You said you wanted to talk earlier. What about?”

“It doesn’t matter now,” I replied solemnly.

“Sure it does, Reagan. What… Oh.” He saw the look on my face. “I understand now.”

A few moments of silence passed between us while everyone else mingled and laughed. Then Caspian took my hand in his.

“We’ll get through this,” he said. “Like we always have. Together.”

**End of Part 1**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of Part 1. Reagan's story will be continued with Part 2 soon...ish.

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a new story for ya. Let me know what you think, if you feel so inclined. Either way, I hope you enjoyed it!


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